


It's such a simple thing

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Looking (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Dom and Michael decide they want strings, Dom and Michael get jiggy, Dom deserves happiness, I write long fics!, Kevin doesn't know if he can trust him, Kevin has moved on, Kevin has proved he can be faithful, Kissing, Love Story, M/M, Patrick realised too late, Patrick shows Kevin they CAN be friends, Pining, Rimming, Ritchie was always a friend, Threesome, a beach front reunion, a poorly doggie, and rimming, angst on the beach, but maybe it is to a memory, finally learning to trust, forgiveness isn't instant, getting the wrong idea about a hug, i love this series, it ended too soon, kinky times, lots of lovely cum, lots of lovely fucking, love is about burning flames when you say my name, masive flip around from the series, naughty drawers, or has he?, safe sex, sexy shower sex, steam room fun, surprises rarely work, there will be smut and fluff, total love in, unashamedly TeamKevin, who is Frankie?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-05-29 17:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 93,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: I recently discovered this amazing Tv series and the movie. I cannot explain how amazing I think it is, but much as I completely love the Ritchie character and storyline, I cannot get that final scene with Kevin out of my head, and I will forever be TeamKevin!So, I wanted to write an alternative ending.....however, I've leapt forwards in time a little as the whole Ritchie storyline kind of made sense to me based on where Patrick was at that point in his life.I'm starting as 'M' rating, but I may change to an 'E' depending on how things go.This is my first fic on this fandom, but my other stuff tends to wander into rather lengthy slow burns....so strap in.I love receiving comments and will always read and reply, but if you prefer to rad along anonymously I hope you enjoy it.





	1. Looking for a buddy

**Author's Note:**

> Setting the scene - what has happened briefly to pass the 6 year time leap, and why is Patrick back in the city.

Patrick ordered a second mug of coffee whilst waiting for Dom.   
He’d sprung the trip into the city on him last minute and his friend had previous plans which he couldn’t cancel. He’d sent a message to tell Patrick to hang on and he’d be there in 15 minutes or so.

The friends hadn’t seen each other in person for just over three years, since he and his boyfriend Ritchie had last visited the city from their new life and home in Texas; although they’d used various Skype and What’s App type Apps to have at least weekly catch up chats.

In the past 6 years a lot had happened for them both; Dom’s chicken window had gone crazy and he’d opened two further windows across venues in the city.   
He was financially secure, he was still single but continued to satisfy his needs with a string of hook-ups and ‘understandings’…..Jesus, he was Dom the Peri Peri guy…..he was fucking San Fran royalty!

Patrick’s 6 years however would take significantly more than a couple of sentences to precis!

He and Ritchie had moved in together shortly after Patrick had accepted the role at MDG, made available by Kevin’s departure to London. Then Ritchie had been unhappy, he wanted to leave and a position at a similar computer games company in Texas had come up which had seemed like the perfect solution. So, after a year of living together in San Francisco they'd moved to San Antonio where they were still living.

That final meeting between Kevin and himself had left Patrick with a range of emotions to deal with – the fact that Kevin had said he loved him….still; despite everything Patrick had put him through…..well; he hadn’t been prepared for it, especially for the heart breaking look of resigned loneliness Kevin had flashed him momentarily before the mask of pretence had descended and he’d walked away from him for the final time.

Patrick had been lost in his own thoughts, ones which he’d steadfastly refused to deal with whilst he had been ‘happy’ with Ritchie.  
The fact that he was now considering them spoke volumes.

He glanced up and saw the familiar, attractive figure of Dom approaching, already shaking his head in an apologetic manner,  
“I’m so sorry….things just got crazy. I’m expected to sort out staffing issues now….didn’t I say I had no desire to be a manager?” he grinned as he pressed his still firm, muscular body against his old friend and engulfed him into a warm hug.

Patrick noted the smattering of grey at the temples of his hair, which was still just the right side of messy to be called ‘tousled’ and those piercing eyes instantly picked up on the bags beneath his own.  
“Jesus, Patrick…..what the hell? Is something wrong? When you said you were in town on a flying visit I assumed work, but…..”

“Ritchie’s left me,” Patrick announced, meeting the concerned blue eyes of his friend.

“What?.....When?”

Patrick slumped back into his chair, “Two days ago…..but he’s been building up to it for a few months….I just missed all the signs.”

Dom puffed out his cheeks and slid his finger and thumb across his thick moustache before answering, “What do you mean by signs?”

Patrick shook his head as they were briefly interrupted by the waiter asking if Dom wanted a drink – he ordered an americano – before he answered, “He was going out a lot, alone…or at least I thought he was alone, and we’d kind of stopped talking….”  
Patrick trailed off.

“What do you mean; you thought he was alone? Has he got someone else?”

Patrick nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows arching up to blend into his slightly longer, curled hair.  
“He’s found his Kevin!”

Dom winced at the mention of the man who had caused Patrick such turmoil; even when they’d broken up, when Patrick had made the monumental decision to walk away, Dom knew that the man had consumed his thoughts. 

“What exactly….?”

Patrick inhaled deeply before answering, “He met this guy, he’s called Tony….he’s a dancer and he walked into Ritchie’s salon for a hair cut….and he went to watch him rehearse…and they fucked.”

Dom tried to remain impartial and non-judgemental as always, “OK…....Ok, but..…I thought you guys were monogamous?”

Patrick shook his head ruefully, “So did I! He came clean about it all a couple of days ago….said he couldn’t stand the thought of going behind my back any more and that he was head over heels in love with Tony and didn’t want to waste the chance to be with him. He moved out.”

“Fuck, Patrick! I didn’t think Ritchie was that guy!”

“Me neither…….we were both wrong!.......but love.....it's crazy!”

Dom glanced up and mumbled an automatic thanks as his mug of coffee arrived at the table.   
Part of him wished that they were in a bar and drinking something a little stronger!

“So what are you going to do?” Dom asked, looking at his friend closely, noticing for the first time that his eyes, although darkly bagged did not appear puffy or red-rimmed.

“I’m letting him go,” he stated calmly and fixing a somewhat unreadable gaze on his friend.

“You seem…..I don’t know….you don’t seem completely heart broken. I mean, I was there after Kevin….I remember what you were like Paddy…..how can you be OK with this?”

Patrick allowed his lips to flicker into one of his trade mark soft smirks, “….because I remember what it was like to feel that way….and, don’t get me wrong, I love Ritchie…..but the way he’s feeling about Tony….I get it, and I remember that feeling…..and you know what….I’m honestly OK about it.”

Dom regarded Patrick and saw that he really did look OK. 

“I mean, I think I’ll always love what I had with Ritchie…..but I realised that I’m not truly in love with him….he isn’t the guy that sets me on fire…..and if he’s met someone that makes him feel that way, I’m not gonna stand in his way to be truly happy….he deserves that much.”

“Fuck! Patrick! Fuck…..you’re still in love with Kevin aren’t you?”

Patrick dropped his gaze to his own partially empty coffee mug, “Dom….I never stopped being in love with him….I just realised it too late….he’d already kissed me goodbye and walked away when I realised it….and when I tried to email him….I really did want to talk to him again, make my feelings clear….well….he didn’t reply. He went back to Jon and…..he’s moved on from me I guess.”

Dom nodded, he remembered the aftermath of that fateful final meeting.   
The description of Kevin’s behaviour; his angry outburst, the hurtful way he'd called Patrick a coward, the way he’d appeared to memorize Patrick’s lips, the feel of his earlobe before walking away had resonated with Dom.   
He’d gone through the same with Lyn when he realised his love for him was one-sided – walking away from that had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, so he’d immediately empathised with Kevin rather than Patrick……of course he’d not shared this with Paddy!

“What if he hasn’t moved on? What if…..what if he’s just getting through the days?” Dom was speaking to Patrick, but definitely from his own first hand experience.   
It had taken him a while to discover that he had wanted a real relationship, and when it was clear he would never have that with Lyn, the one guy he'd wanted to be monogamous with, it had been a pretty empty existence since.   
He was successful financially, and he was never lacking in company on a sexual level….but he couldn’t seem to develop that emotional attraction now.

Patrick glanced up from his coffee cup, “His Wikipedia page says he’s in a relationship….and so does Jon’s!”  
Dom shrugged.

“So, what are you gonna do? You given it any thought? Are you moving back?......is that why you’re here?” Dom asked, a flicker of excitement rising before he quashed it, he had no right to be looking forward to his friend returning to San Francisco when the reason behind the move was so heart breaking!

Patrick however returned the excited gaze and nodded slowly, “Well…..yeah. I mean, I only moved to San Antonio for Ritchie, and although I love my job I never really got on with the city….it’s just too…..I don’t know.....it's just not me!”

Dom reached across and gripped Patrick’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “We’ve missed you Paddy! The city has missed you!”

Patrick returned the firm hand squeeze, “I have no place in mind at this point…..no jobs lined up, but I’m heading over to MDG later. I’m in a pretty good position because I happen to know that Owen needs some paternity time coming up…..yep, another brat on the way….and they have a new game that has a completion deadline due…..so maybe the timing’s right?”

“Oh my God! Patrick Murray returning to city by the bay!” 

The two men shared a smile that said much more than words: I’m glad, I’ve missed you as a friend, I’ve needed you the past few years, I’m a little lost, I understand, I love you buddy.


	2. Looking at the horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out the Kevin back story of the time leap.  
> we also discover who Frankie is.

Kevin had become a familiar figure on the beach.  
The house he’d bought, after instantly falling in love with the slightly quirky style of it had direct access at the back onto the glorious sandy beaches of western Los Angeles.  
The neighbourhood was pretty stable – he’d been the most recent person to move into the area and that was over 4 years ago now. 

He sat staring out at the slightly blurry, violet shaded horizon, his knees bent, elbows resting on them as he toyed with a small, smooth pebble between his fingers.

As he had done almost every day since he moved in, he pressed his lips to the stone, stood and walked towards the waves as they crashed up onto the shoreline.  
He hurled today's pebble into the foamy waves watching it drop beneath the surface before returning and wrapping his arm around Frankie who had been sitting patiently next to him on the beach, and hadn’t moved upon seeing the now familiar routine.

Kevin nestled his cheek into Frankie’s softly bristled cheek.  
“I love you,” he whispered, pulling the warm, yielding body towards him and receiving a wet, nuzzling pressure against his stubbled neck.

Kevin and Frankie had found each other a little under 4 years ago.   
Kevin had been about as low as he’d ever been.   
His relationship with Jon hadn’t lasted after that final meeting with Patrick.

Their intention of moving back to London had partly come to fruition – Kevin had made the journey; but Jon had alighted at the Chicago stopover point and headed his own way back to Seattle.

The meeting with Patrick had not had the outcome Kevin had hoped for.   
He’d set up two possible scenarios: either he’d see Patrick after a prolonged split and feel nothing, or they’d both feel the same undeniable pull they had shared and would rekindle their fledgling relationship.  
He hadn’t in any way considered the third and completely life changing actual outcome – that he’d pour out his heart to the man he loved and have it almost handed back with an expression of non-plused incredulity and incomprehension.

Patrick clearly didn’t love him, hence why he’d asked him if he ever truly had.

One thing had remained with Kevin though; the knowledge that he could have and would have been willing to be faithful to Patrick…..and he had been since that meeting.  
He and Jon had not been intimate in the run up to leaving for London; they’d been busy and when Jon had initiated something Kevin had easily been able to divert him claiming exhaustion.

The other message Kevin had taken away loud and clear from his encounters with Patrick was that the man wanted to be able to trust him. So he’d made a pledge to be honest, regardless of how much hurt that cost – it was something he’d never been willing to do before – he’d not wanted to break Jon’s spirit by leaving him abruptly without any apparent reason, afterall Jon hadn’t done anything wrong; he just wasn’t the man who made Kevin’s heart and soul fly.  
So, when Jon initiated a conversation on the first part of their flight to London and asked him whether he could see them getting married and being together forever, Kevin had replied honestly that he couldn’t commit to that.   
Jon’s next question had come as a surprise; he’d bluntly asked whether he was still in love with Patrick….and he’d been truthful in his reply.  
He had never fallen out of love with him…..and he probably never would.

Jon had got off the plane in Chicago, removed his luggage and gone back to his life in Seattle.  
He was now married to a guy called Neil who he’d met only a few months later.   
They now had a child, a son called Max and were happy, at least according to Neil’s Facebook page which for some reason was fully accessible to anyone, unlike Jon’s.

So Kevin had spent a couple of years in England – he’d moved briefly to Brighton on the south coast and made a small fortune on One Up Him – not on the Patrick and Kevin game itself, but on the actual Top Trumps concept which had been bought by the game’s inventors so that they could use the coding and principles of the APP to create their own versions of more ‘traditional’ Top Trumps games for children. 

Kevin had made enough money to retire ten times over and a life of pointless lethargy had suited him for a short time….but he was not someone who could simply sit and watch the world go by….especially the world of technology and gaming….he’d chosen his profession because he loved it….and that wasn’t simply going to cease just because he had a shit load of cash in the bank!

So, he’d gone back across to the US.   
As soon as he started reaching out feelers he’d had his arm well and truly snatched off by an LA based company called Tru Gaming.   
The main guy, Mark Truman, knew of Kevin’s prowess and had immediately offered him a position of managing his LA based office.   
There was a tasty salary, the role was exactly what Kevin excelled at, the team was enthusiastic and talented, and he’d discovered that he loved the Malibu coastline, which is where he’d quickly found a home to call his own.

He had met Frankie shortly after moving in and it had been instant love between them.   
They’d been inseparable ever since, and Frankie had filled the empty, painful place in his heart left vacant after Patrick.

“Come on you, dinner time!” Kevin clambered up, brushing the sand from the rear of his shorts and clipping the leash back onto Frankie’s collar as the French Bulldog stood up, stretching his back legs out one by one before waddling excitedly after his master’s bare legs towards their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and yes, Frankie is unashamedly based on Rockie, Russell Tovey's beloved French bulldog....who is also rather like the dog featured on THAT sweater!


	3. Looking for a job.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick establishes himself back in San Francisco.  
> I have let myself get into how high maintenance Patrick is, and also how confused he was by the concept of love and how he had a naïve idea that love shouldn't be the passionate 'lust' he felt for Kevin.  
> I have to say that I am not anti-Ritchie.....I kind of love that whole storyline - I just think that the fact that Patrick said I love you to Kevin first MUST mean something in the bigger scheme of things.

Patrick stared across the city he still felt inherently was home.   
The balcony wasn’t exactly the same one he’d shared with Kevin, but it was the same hotel they’d stayed over in for the Gaymer conference a lifetime ago.

Looking out at the bustling street scene and rooftops his mind was instantly taken back to that night.   
It was the first time he’d told someone he loved them.   
He had loved Kevin….he really had, and although he’d felt a love for Ritchie he now realised that it was the same kind of love he felt for Dom or Augustin or his other friends.  
Kevin on the other hand……no, that had always been complete love.   
With all of the painful, crazy, wonderful emotions that went along with that level of vulnerability.

He hadn’t been able to stop what had happened between them, until of course Kevin had been unable to make the break from Jon.   
It had killed him to put up a barrier, and he’d spent every second in his orbit just staring at his profile, picturing his lips on his, his mouth tugging at his bottom lip, his hands splaying across his amazing body……and yet knowing that he needed to break away from him forever.  
When Kevin had appeared on his stoop, after Doris’ dad’s funeral, and told him he wanted to make it work between them……he hadn’t hesitated in telling him that he was desperate for that too.

For a while, after the break up, Patrick had tried to convince himself that he’d made the decision in haste; that he’d never really loved Kevin.   
He’d wanted Kevin, yes, and he’d lusted after him, but what they shared couldn’t have been love….because it wasn’t like what he had with Ritchie.

What he’d failed to consider was that what he had with Ritchie wasn’t actually love!

Ritchie had earned Patrick’s respect, he’d shown him his own love and tenderness……but Patrick had realised too late that he’d settled for what he believed to be love……and he’d thought it was love because he couldn’t actually believe that the rampant, almost primeval feelings he’d felt for Kevin could actually be ‘love’.

Lust? Maybe.

Attraction? Definitely.

Excitement? Absolutely.

But whilst part of it all he hadn’t really believed it could be love.  
Although it was Kevin who he’d first admitted that feeling to….he was the one he’d used that phrase with…and when he’d uttered it he hadn’t regretted it.  
What he regretted now however was that he’d walked away….and when he’d last seen Kevin, he’d let him walk away from HIM.

Patrick made his way inside and slept.

Waking up in San Francisco felt right and as he dressed in a casual but still smart plaid shirt, open over one of his trade-mark logo’d t shirts and chinos he felt like he was back home in so many ways.  
He knew the way to the MDG offices well, and although he no longer had his own card to swipe himself in it was still a familiar experience.  
Owen met him and took him through to what had once been Kevin’s office – a glass goldfish bowl in the centre of the relaxed hub of technology – and which triggered many memories for Patrick.

That was where he’d been fucked by Kevin for the first time….right there where that set of bean bag seating was now...that was where he'd let Kevin fuck him, condomless and passion filled. Where he'd realised that being 'a bottom' was actually pretty hot when it was with the right guy....especially one with a cock as delicious as Kevin's had been.  
Over behind that third door on the left was where Kevin had first given him a blow job (a fucking amazing blow job from his ridiculously talented mouth!) and there, right where Owen was sitting behind the large metal framed desk, was where he’d realised he was crazy about Kevin Matheson…..when he’d stood up and performed the craziest, cutest and corniest dance routine to some Take That track.

Patrick was dimly aware that Owen had said something as they slumped down into chairs.  
“I’m sorry, Owen….I was sucked right back in time,” Patrick stated, dimly aware of the double entendre.  
“I was asking how it felt to be back here….it’s been a long time in tech terms anyway!” Owen continued.

Patrick was aware of how Owen looked behind the desk – he kind of looked older, duller……but also like he belonged.   
Patrick wasn’t sure whether he wanted that – but he was in charge of a similarly sized office in San Antonio….and he didn’t act like Owen appeared to. Patrick was a relaxed and easy-going guy by nature …..actually what the fuck?! ….of COURSE he wasn’t! 

Patrick was always on edge, second guessed EVERYTHING, analysed the crap out of every aspect of his personal life….and yet when it came to his professional role he managed to turn into a guy who was calmly in control, brought the best out in his team by delegating and rewarding appropriately….he was great at it.

“It feels like yesterday!” Patrick grinned. “Owen, let’s not piss about….you need to know that I need to get out of Texas and I want to come home….BUT, I don’t want your job full time, that’s not my plan….but I am more than willing to act as head honcho here until you feel ready to come back.”  
Owen sighed visibly and looked slightly relieved.  
“I’m glad to hear that….although not the part about you needing to leave Texas….I guess Ritchie is not…….?”  
“Ritchie and I have gone our separate ways….it’s pretty recent and ……I’m OK…or at least I will be if I can move on….by which I mean move back!”

The gist of the conversation which followed was that Owen had already spoken with HR, and they were very happy with the concept of Patrick Murray replacing him for the duration of his paternity leave.   
Owen passed his old friend a contract, which included a nice pay package, and given that Mindy was imminently about to produce their 4th AND 5th children under the age of 5, he was happy to know that the office would be in safe hands.  
Patrick wanted to start as soon as possible, so they agreed he’d return to shadow Owen and discuss the current projects and diary the following day. 

Leaving the familiar building Patrick looked up and down the bustling San Francisco street, inhaling the aroma of salt from the ocean, coffee from a nearby café and the eclectic mix of perspiration, hotdogs and ‘energy’ from the pavement itself.  
“Shit! I need somewhere to live!” he muttered outloud. And so he headed in the direction of Orphan Annies, one of his favourite diners – the fact it had been the location of him and Ritchie’s ultimate ‘get together’ was by the by. The history of him with the place was too strong to allow that one experience to soil it.  
Once he had ordered and was happily seated in a small booth he flicked out his laptop and starting trawling the listings and making calls regarding apartments.  
One thing was for certain; he didn’t want a place where you needed a fucking fob to access the lift!


	4. Looking for new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, if you are familiar with the HBO series you will know that Patrick had a whole cohort of close friends which formed his life in San Francisco, and also that Kevin didn't have/need this same element in his life.  
> On that final conversation they also discussed how they could never be friends......I like to think this was because Kevin had never been surrounded by friends like Patrick had, and could not see how this could work for them - as well as the fact that Kevin still adores Patrick and knows that he always will.  
> So, I am creating a flip around with Kevin having amassed a tight friendship group.
> 
> Tanya is vaguely in my head a version of Lorelei Gilmore! sassy, fast talking, caffeine fuelled and takes no shit!  
> The Michael character is based around Richard Armitage.....you may spot a little homage to one of his famous roles!

Kevin fed Frankie before starting to arrange his own meal.   
He’d started to eat a lot more fish since living on the coast, and he kept himself in shape by eating a controlled diet rich in lean protein as well as by working out several times a week. He was in better physical shape than he’d been when he last saw Patrick (he’d felt slightly self conscious of putting on a few pounds compared to Patrick’s slick physique.) Actually he was in better shape than he’d been when he was with Patrick!

He took his plate of perfectly cooked tuna with salad across to the long dining table – which could seat 8 technically, but in recent years had easily managed to accommodate more – and smiled across as Frankie cleaned his own dish and came skittering across the hardwood floor towards his master’s feet; looking up hopefully for titbits.

There was a rattle at the door, Frankie looked around but didn’t budge at the familiar fall of footsteps and scent of the woman who made her way into the room.

“So; I went to collect that rocking chair – bastard has sold it to some fucking idiot who agreed to pay the asking price! So after I’d spat him out I went for lunch with Aimee; and she is just punch you in the face happy with her new guy, and basically I came over so that I could find someone to feel superior to!” she gabbled whilst opening the refrigerator, pouring herself a glass of iced tea and helping herself to the leftover salad on the worktop.

Kevin finished his mouthful and smiled as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek and sat opposite him at the table.  
“Hi Tanya, thank you so much for dropping by and making me feel like shit!”

Tanya was 48, had naturally wavy chocolate coloured hair and wore the kind of unofficial Malibu resident uniform of cut offs and a linen tunic together with a twisted colourful scarf in her hair, sunglasses perched on the top of her head. She talked rapidly and moved as though she had overdosed on caffeine, which was highly likely based on her daily consumption.

She was Kevin’s neighbour.

She was also Kevin’s new best friend.

They’d met the day he moved in and had bonded instantly.   
His need to sit in isolation on the beach tossing pebbles into the sea had found a perfect companion in her need to stand barefoot in the foamy edge of the waves until her toes sank down in the sand.

He’d told her his story that first night – how he’d screwed things up and lost Patrick, and she’d listened and made the appropriate sounds and gestures of comfort and empathy.

She’d then told him her story and he’d realised his life wasn’t so shit after all.

Tanya had moved to Malibu from Las Vegas where she had lived with her husband Nick, the love of her life, who had been a psychiatrist, and their son, Nate, who had come along after a long wait.   
Life had been great until Nick had stopped off with Nate to buy her Mother’s Day gift 8 years ago now, then decided to grab ice-cream.

The guy responsible had not taken his meds for several weeks.

He had singled out Nick and Nate and the frenzied attack on the pair with a hunting knife had resulted in their deaths, and the horrific task of identifying their bodies to Tanya.

Nate had been 6 years old.

Tanya frequently visited Arnold Rogers in prison where he was serving a double life sentence, she had also been a key witness in the various hearings and appeals he had put in following his sentence.

She spoke in his defence.

Arnold had been badly let down by the system – having been abused and then repeatedly re-abused by the people he had turned to for help he had been palmed off with a series of pills and given no guidance on how to improve his issue.

Ironically, or sadly, Nick would have been the perfect man to help him…..she considered it her duty to ensure that her husband and child’s death were not in vain to try to help him.

Arnold remained in prison on the same cocktail of pills that had let him down before rather than receive the psychiatric support he needed….but his visits from Tanya gave him a reason not to kill himself….and he managed to last week by week.

Tanya was working on his next appeal hearing with his lawyer.

Kevin had been blown away by Tanya.  
She was the kindest, most completely beautiful person he knew, and he’d poured out his heart to her over the years.

She swiped a mouthful of fish from his plate and chewed on salad leaves, pointing her fork at him across the table.  
“You don’t need me to make you feel like shit Kevin……you make yourself feel like shit most days. You could have any guy in this town…..get out there and dangle your toe in the water again!”

Kevin smirked back at her, arching his eyebrow, “We’ve been through this T, there’s no point. I’m like you; I found the love of my life and I lost them…..I’m not looking for anyone else.”  
“I know…..but…..what if they found YOU again? It isn’t completely out of the realms of possibility…unlike my situation,” she fussed with her headscarf and retwisted it without the aid of a mirror to create a slightly different array of her curls.

Kevin regarded her with a rueful smirk across his face, “Patrick is happy with Ritchie. I want him to be happy. So…..that’s that……and anyway; I’m happy.”

Tanya arched an eyebrow at him, but recognised the slightly pained, empty look behind his eyes….she’d said those same words to friends on many occasions and knew they were both a lie and a coping mechanism.

Frankie abruptly perked up his ears and waddled across to the front door as footsteps and a partial conversation in a clipped, masculine accent corresponded with a tall, slender man making his way inside.  
He vaguely acknowledged Kevin and Tanya and regarded the contents of the refrigerator before selecting a bottle of coconut water and dropping onto one of the wooden stools around the table.  
“Look, just get me a meeting with the new guy arranged and I’ll take it from there, OK?” the dark haired man ended the call and turned to them both after taking a draught from his water, “Hi!”

“Michael…….are those yesterday’s clothes?” Tanya adopted a mock ‘Mom’ tone and waggled her finger at Michael’s wrinkle nosed grin.  
He scraped his large palm across the stubble beginning to show through across his jawline and raised his eyebrows at her inquisitive expression. Kevin merely shook his head at his friend’s appearance and demeanour.

“Yes….and I’m old enough to do what I want with whoever I want….and last night, and earlier today I did just that….with a rather delectable dancer called Carlos….talk about flexible!” Michael explained, winking lasciviously and stretching his shoulders until they cracked pleasurably.  
“You dawg!” Tanya grinned, “Come on….details, I need to have a sex life vicariously through you….where did you meet, who did what to whom…..spill!”

Michael made himself more comfortable, slouched slightly across the wooden table, “Met him in a club, bought him a couple of drinks, mutual decision for casual hook up, went to his place…..and…..”  
Kevin was now placing crockery into the dishwasher.   
He was paying attention to Michael’s description and smiling at the memory of Patrick’s friends in San Francisco – Michael reminded him of Dom – an older, successful gay guy who had no intention of getting serious with anyone. He slept around casually, safely, and was perfectly happy with that arrangement.

“So who topped who?” Tanya continued, grabbing a nectarine from the large bowl on the table and sucking up the juicy flesh.  
“I rimmed him, he rimmed me, I topped him, he sucked me off, and we had a very happy shower together….coffee, cigarette, good times!”

Michael laced his fingers behind his neck and stretched out his back.   
He was wearing a superbly well fitted white t shirt, low waisted skinny jeans, a pair of natural, brown leather ankle boots and a beautifully elegant, collarless black leather jacket.   
His dark hair was closely cropped to his head, and his piercing green eyes peered out from beneath dark brows.  
He was definitely an attractive guy.  
He also knew that he was and was comfortable in a non-smug way about how he looked – he kept himself in shape with several weekly workouts, weights, pilates, swimming and running; which Kevin often joined him in.   
It was how Michael and Kevin had met – the steam room of their gym.   
Michael had been quite brazen in his initial interest in Kevin, and when he’d heard an accent similar to his own his interest had definitely piqued.   
When Kevin had repeatedly turned him down for more than just a post-workout drink Michael had been all the more persistent.  
However, he’d quite quickly realised that Kevin wasn’t interested in anyone, not just him, and the knowledge of it meant Michael was able to consider the younger man as a potential friend rather than a conquest.

They had quite a lot in common due to their joint English backgrounds, albeit a North and South element affected their experiences; Kevin firmly rooted in Essex whilst Michael’s background and education was based around Yorkshire.  
But the pair had become solid friends, and along with Tanya, had developed into a tight knit, openly sharing trio.

“Who were you talking to on the phone?” Kevin asked.   
Another reason for Kevin and Michael’s friendship was that the older man was something of a whizz when it came to graphic art.   
He was one of the most sought after artistic designers for use in the marketing of online games and although he always worked freelance, he often gave Kevin advice on games he was developing. Tru Gaming had even used him for their last launch, and the actual advertising campaign had recently won several awards thanks to Michael Frith’s remarkable, avant-garde approach.

Michael grabbed the partially eaten nectarine from Tanya’s hand and slurped a large mouthful before returning what was left to her.  
“Oh, it's about some gaming place based in San Francisco. The main guy is taking some time away and there’s a new face moving in, no idea who it is, BUT, I do know they have a game almost at the marketing stage and the previous guy was also one of the artistic team and apparently had a pretty old school vision….so, maybe an opportunity to stir things up. I've asked Chloe to set up a meeting….plus I fancy a trip to the Castro…you know, new blood!”  
He directed the final comment towards Kevin and licked his lips rather obscenely. 

Kevin showed minimal interest at the mention of one of his old haunts; he flicked his mind briefly to Esta Noche, Folsom, the Castro, Buds flower shop, a staircase stoop and……. Patrick.

“Ooooh, Michael Firth does San Fran! Jesus! That I might pay to see!” Tanya grinned, depositing the nectarine pit in the trash and rinsing her sticky hands at the sink. “OK, for now though, are we on for cheesy 80s film later, my place about 9.30?”

Both men nodded and offered raised finger waves as she continued to mumble through her mental ‘To Do List’ as she exited Kevin’s beach front property.

“Any plans for tomorrow?” Michael lazily asked Kevin, glancing approvingly at the younger man’s backside as he bent to stack crockery.  
Kevin finished with the dishwasher and wiped down the sink – his home was a lived in space featuring an eclectic mix of artwork, antique furnishings and modern pieces, but he still liked a fastidious degree of cleanliness!  
“Bit of work….some coding on a new level for a shoot’em up, then I am hitting the gym and taking Frankie for a bit of pampering,” Kevin finished, picking up a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and indicating by tilting it towards Michael as to whether he wanted to join him.  
“No thanks, I’d better go get a shower…..same clothes after a hook up is OK, but I’m getting whiffs of 2 colognes…..it’s playing with my head!” Michael levered himself up from the stool and gave Frankie a rub behind the ears which resulted in a closed lid ‘smile’ of ecstasy from the small dog.

“See you at Tanya’s later then……and if she insists on The Breakfast Club again back me up won’t you?” Kevin quipped.  
Michael paused briefly and pursed his lips, “But you know I have that whole Judd Nelson thing……” he trailed his voice out, shrugging his shoulders as Kevin tossed a tea towel after his departing form.

“Oh Frankie! That fucking theme tune kills me!” he whispered into the patient, soft ears of his beloved canine companion.  
Maybe he could consume enough wine or beer or bourbon later, and maybe when Simple Minds asked him to ‘Don’t you, forget about me’ maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t think about inhaling the sweet scent of Patrick’s neck and rubbing his earlobe between his fingers….and maybe he wouldn’t yet again replay the scene to have Patrick run down that escalator after him…..it was a slim hope.


	5. Looking at apartments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick meets up with Augustin who is thrilled to know his friend is moving back to the city.  
> Patrick agrees to meet Michael Firth....and likes the look of him!  
> He finds his ideal house:  
> The link is : https://jacksonfuller.com/property/85-caselli-avenue-san-francisco-ca-94114/

Patrick scanned quickly and efficiently through listings for apartments.  
He had quite a specific list of requirements, and could usually tell from a single image whether somewhere looked like it had the right ‘feel’ to it.  
What he really wanted was his old apartment which he’d shared with Augustin for so long….but that was now long gone.  
Instead he found a couple of possibilities and made appointments to view both, one over lunchtime the other late afternoon. That left him with an hour to kill now and several to fill later.

He paid his check and leapt on the first cable car that passed by.  
He wanted to fill himself once more with the city he loved.  
He rode to the end of the line and wandered along the piers, bought a cone of deep fried squid and butterfly shrimp and ate them aimlessly looking out at the water.

The first apartment was OK, but didn’t quite live up to his expectations….it would be Ok, but it also wasn’t technically available until later in the month.  
Making his way back to the centre of the city he called Augustin; he was working at the Trans kids Center but told Patrick to head over. 

Augustin greeted him with his usual level of bone-breaking hug and sarcastic comment.  
“Hell Patrick….figured you’d be wearing cowboy boots and shouting Howdy after all that time in the Saaaoowwth,” he stated in an exaggerated southern drawl.  
“Augustin, it’s good to see you too!” Patrick quipped.

“So….no Ritchie? Are you playing away? Is it what happens in San Francisco stays in San Francisco?”

Patrick pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose, “No Ritchie, period….and what’s staying in San Francisco is me…..with no Ritchie!”

“Oh fuck! Patrick, I’m sorry…what happened? When?” Augustin moved through to his small office which provided a modicum of privacy.  
Patrick sat on the lone office chair, Augustin perched himself on the edge of the desk.  
Patrick smiled as he fidgeted with the slim, silver and black band on his left hand which he’d worn since his marriage to Eddie.

“Well, what happened is that Ritchie moved on….he found someone that makes his heart race and his cock throb and his brain stop working….”

“You mean he found a Kevin?” Augustin stated….always able to cut through the crap and state the absolute truth regardless of the level of pain it may cause.

Patrick dropped his head fractionally, “Yeah! And unlike me, he hasn’t fucked it all up after one day.”

“So…..what are you doing in the city? Are you coming back?” Augustin’s face lit up as he noticed the smile at the corner of his friend’s mouth and he began to rapidly clap the tips of his fingers.  
Patrick nodded slowly and squealed as he was engulfed in another of Augustin’s breath sucking hugs.

“Oh, My, God…..Patrick Murray back in the city. Wait til Dom hears about this!” Augustin's voice rose about 3 octaves as he shrieked!

“He….he already knows. I told him yesterday…but it all happened like two, no three days ago, so it isn’t like I’ve been keeping it from you,” Patrick quickly explained.  
Augustin shrugged and shook his head, “Paddycakes, it’s fine that you told Dom……but I’m glad you told me now. So, are you gonna be jobless and heartbroken or what?”

Patrick filled him in on the job and possible apartments, flicking images and details. Augustin nodded at both, but stated a preference for the second which he didn’t know Patrick hadn’t yet viewed.  
Eddie ambled into the office as they talked about what Patrick might do once Owen returned; Patrick explained that he intended to start putting out feelers for permanent roles as soon as he had his feet back under the table at MDG.

“I can’t believe you’re coming back, Patrick….it’s gonna be so great!” Eddie liked Patrick and enjoyed the friendship his husband had with him, and the ‘old gang’ reconnecting seemed appropriate.

“I know….I think it’s the right time, and I think I’m ready!” Patrick smiled, considering the meaning of that phrase. 

To Ritchie it had symbolised something, which on reflection wasn’t actually true.  
Patrick had been ready way before that; he’d been ready to do absolutely anything for Kevin, right up until he’d had to trust him….he knew now that what he’d been terrified of was settling down with one guy who may not feel as strongly about him….but he also realised with hind sight that the one guy that he truly wanted to be with had been Kevin, and maybe he'd underestimated him.  
He'd have done pretty much anything for him….and he’d been so close to running down that escalator after him on that fateful last meeting.  
Surely that couldn’t be the last time he felt those lips on his?  
Surely it couldn’t be the last time he felt passion like that run through his veins?

With Ritchie it had always been sweet, and intense…..but the pure rush of liquid need and passion that Kevin’s kisses stirred within him…..there had never been anything or anyone who compared.  
But he was presumably still with Jon, based on both of their relationship statuses.  
The rest of their online profiles were private, but Jon wouldn’t be dumb enough to discard what they had.

Patrick passed a pleasing couple of hours at the center until it began to get busy with young people in need of Eddie and Augustin’s attention, so he bade his farewells and promised to call later and let Augustin know about the apartment situation.

He was making his way back through the city towards the address in Caselli Avenue where the second condo was based, he figured he’d check out the surrounding area, maybe find somewhere for a coffee or maybe a real drink when his phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unrecognised number.

“Is that Patrick Murray? I’m Chloe, I’m Michael Frith’s P.A. He was wondering whether he could arrange a meeting with you…he’s heard you are taking over at MDG and is wondering whether you’d be interested in collaborating.”

Patrick was slightly taken aback; firstly that the news of his move to MDG seemed to have already started making the rounds, which given the fact that he’d only just agreed to it was mad; but secondly that Michael Frith wanted to meet him….to collaborate!  
He knew his work, it was amazing….and the fact that the guy was as sexy as fuck had also crossed his mind! 

“Ahhhh, yeah. I might be interested….we have a new game that is almost ready for some marketing and artwork….” Patrick was cut off by the female voice.  
“Mr Frith is aware of that and it is precisely what he is interested in discussing. Any days you’re available? I appreciate that you are hitting the ground running so to speak, I called MDG and they gave me this number….do they have your diary yet?”  
Patrick made a hasty mental note – he had no idea!  
Presumably Owen had things arranged which he’d be expected to take over….which meant he had no idea when a meeting with the delicious Michael Frith could be factored in.  
“Chloe, was it? Ahhh, could you send your contact details over to MDG and I’ll look into arranging a space in my schedule first thing. I can let you know tomorrow, would that be OK?”  
“Sure, no problem….I’ll send that across…..now, and look forward to your call. Have a good rest of your day.”

He hung up.  
Jesus, things were moving fast!

He was slightly side tracked as he ordered a double shot latte in an independent coffee house, which he was pleased to think could be his new ‘local’ based on it’s proximity to the Street address of the second apartment he was considering.

Michael Frith wanted to collaborate….on a game….on some fucking shit-hot artwork! 

He mulled over the fact that Owen would have probably had no interest in Michael’s work – Owen was an excellent art director, but had a pretty rigid opinion and view of gaming art design.  
No….. Michael Frith was new blood; albeit slightly older - lived in new blood - but definitely a new and exciting vision for gaming.  
Patrick considered the MDG new game….it was based on a whole speak-easy type vibe…gangsters, bootleg liquor, bent cops…..Michael Frith could definitely do something sexy with that….and possibly he’d let Patrick do something sexy right back at him.

God he was horny!

Michael Frith…..somehow Patrick’s latte was accompanied by an online image search……fuck….he was incredibly hot! The guy had eyes that could laser cut through steel!  
Oh God….and he was British….he’d have that sexy accent thing….like Kevin had……oh God…..Patrick Murray was doomed!

He finished his drink, musing over whether Michael Firth’s stubble rendered him obscenely attractive or just shockingly good looking, and made his way towards the second of the apartments.

As soon as he was inside he realised this was definitely him. It had his name all over it; the quirky little arch leading into the kitchen; the little outside deck area scattered with it's grey panelling and seating/dining space.  
He agreed to the price on the spot and as it was available immediately he arranged to have the required bond wired across as well as copies of references which he had already from his previous apartment shared with Ritchie in San Antonio.

He could move in at the weekend.

Perfect!


	6. Looking for a decent night out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite bitty but bear with me!  
> Patrick sort of re establishes himself back 'home'  
> Patrick arranges a meeting with Michael Frith - it is worth noting that Patrick and his friends know who Michael is, but at this stage Michael still doesn't know that he'd meeting Patrick Murray!  
> Oh, and if you need a visual reminder, Michael in my head is based on Richard Armitage, especially his look in Berlin Station!  
> I also did the phone conversation in homage to the show - in that we only hear one side of it and have to sort of pencil in the rest ourselves.

Movie night had been the usual excuse for bitchy comments, out of tune ‘singing’ and communal hugs.   
The trio had said their goodbyes in the early hours, just as the sun was coming up, with Kevin and Michael using the beach as their route home. Michael had a property a couple of houses along from Kevin.  
They embraced warmly in front of Kevin’s raised deck, “Are you OK with me checking out this new guy at MDG?” Michael asked.

“Checking him out, topping him or working with him?” Kevin quipped mischievously.  
Michael had the good grace to bite his lip and waggle his brows lasciviously, “Either works for me! Don’t know who he is though…..probably some straight, uber-beardy, skinny hipster.”

“Er…..no offence mate, but YOU are a skinny, beardy hipster!”

“Whatever! You haven’t answered though. Will it be OK if I have to keep mentioning it, or would you rather I kept schtum?”

Kevin thrust his hands into his casual trouser pockets. “Michael, it’s a building……the company is still out there; doing it’s thing and I’m fine about it. Christ, Patrick hasn’t worked there for ages….Owen and I have actually kept in touch to some extent, so please don’t worry. They have a new game coming out and you should inject your amazing artistic talents on it if you can.”

Michael nodded sagely, his thin lips pressed tightly together.  
“OK…..you fancy that fuck I keep asking you for?”

Kevin grinned and shook his head….Michael was a great looking guy, at one time in his life he’d have jumped at the chance of a bit of ‘reach around’ or a night of rampant sex….but it had been a long time since he’d indulged in that way….which Michael knew well!  
Kevin had stayed faithful in his own way to Patrick. And now it was just part of his life – sex wasn’t anymore – there just wasn’t anyone he wanted in that way anymore….even sexy Mr Frith with his chiselled jaw, slim hips and abs that were worthy of several moments of adulation when he exposed them (which was fairly regularly….the guy was a complete exhibitionist amongst his friends!)  
“Goodnight Michael….the only person sharing with me tonight is Frankie!”

\----------

The following morning Patrick went into the MDG offices and spent an hour or so going over the appointments in Owen’s diary which needed to be adhered to – there weren’t many to be fair and most were video or Skype meetings which took place from the ‘goldfish bowl’ office.

During a break for coffee he found the time to contact Chloe, the P.A. of Michael Frith and suggested a meeting with him for the following Tuesday – he’d move the majority of stuff into his new apartment at the weekend, and Owen was eager to spend time with his wife – or rather she was keen for him to spend time with them given that she was the size of a small barge!  
Owen had suggested a rather quick timescale given that Patrick knew the business and many of the people still under his management; plus he’d be available on call if need be, and could even pop into the office from time to time. It was therefore arranged that Owen would finish work on Friday, and Patrick would resume management at MDG San Francisco as of Monday.

Patrick was usually the king of caution, but for some insane reason all of this felt right.   
He had no guy in his life, and that would be fine; he’d get back into the whole San Francisco gay scene again and focus on work….and he’d have his friends back in his life.  
It was exciting….and he had already started making a mental list of where pieces of furniture could go in his new apartment!

During lunch he grabbed a sandwich and took it up to the MDG rooftop – it was still one of his favourite places to hangout…..even without the potential appearance of Kevin Matheson – damn they’d shared some seriously hot encounters up there in the past!

He glanced over at the secluded corner next to the aircon tower – not the most romantic of locations – and remembered the sensation of Kevin dropping to his knees and engulfing his cock in his warm, welcoming mouth. Kevin did give truly exceptional blow-jobs!

Groaning, he bit down on his sandwich and mentally rehearsed the next conversation he needed to get out of the way.   
Swallowing the bite, washed down with his usual diet Coke he took a deep breath and called Ritchie.

‘Hey, I’m not planning on dragging this out, but erm….I need to arrange getting my stuff….and having it moved to San Francisco…….yeah…..I know, cliché, but, I’m coming back home!........no, I have a place, I can move in in a couple of days……..you don’t have to do that……..well, sure it would help me out massively, but……..well, yeah, it does make sense. Well, if you’re sure…..that would be great….just give them my email for the invoice OK?.....yeah, you too Ritchie….and, thanks.’

Wow!  
Maybe he and Ritchie had always and would always be friends?   
The guy had just agreed to box up all of Patrick’s stuff for him, and get them transported up to him to save him the bother of having to go back.

The cynical side of Patrick wanted to think it was just to wipe the slate clean as quickly as possible for Ritchie…..but that wasn’t how it had sounded.   
He even said he’d send him a list of their ‘joint’ stuff and he could choose what he wanted from it.  
He really was a really nice guy…..and Patrick did love him, he probably always would…but he wasn’t Kevin, and it was Kevin that he still wanted in his heart….and in his ass he thought as he took a further mammoth bite from his sandwich and dragged his eyes away from that damn aircon tower again!

So, a couple of days later Patrick, ‘assisted’ by Augustin, Dom and Eddie was moving into his new apartment – which mainly consisted of them constructing the new bed he had purchased and adding the new bed linens, then arranging some fresh towels in the bathroom.  
The rest of his stuff, including a few larger items of furniture, would be arriving within the week courtesy of Ritchie, who was as good as his word and had arranged boxes and a truck to deliver it all to Patrick.  
All of the kitchen appliances had been left and were in a good state of repair, so he could manage, and more importantly he didn’t want to go on a spree of buying new stuff until he saw what his own belongings looked like in the spaces.

Anyway, the quartet discussed the veritable feast of items which could be picked up by scouring yard sales and street markets – Eddie was a big fan and had furnished his and Augustin’s apartment with a myriad of stuff, which although of completely differing styles and colours seemed to work perfectly for their colourful lifestyle.

Over a drawn out lunch of take out and beers, consumed in the resoundingly applauded outdoor space of Patrick’s condo, talk got onto Patrick’s job, and how he would find working back at MDG with all of the history he had there.

“It’s OK…I mean, it was a little weird to walk in there again and picture all the places me and Kevin fucked, but…you know…..it’s fine!”

“How many places exactly are we talking about?” Augustin asked, waggling his eyebrows. “Did you fuck in those bathrooms?”

“You mean the ones were something that had clearly died was expelled from your asshole? No….strangely we didn’t fuck there!”

“What about those swinging chairs? I mean they are close to being a sex swing!” Augustin continued, adding further mumbled description of the hanging seats for Eddie who hadn’t seen the MDG offices.

“Oh god! Those seats!” erupted Dom, “I always kind of thought they looked weirdly like they should feature in an X rated movie!”

Patrick shook his head, spooning more noodles into his grinning mouth, “No fucking went on in the hanging seats, although I did pull him out of one when he got stuck.”

“What was that? You pulled him off in one? Damn Paddy-cakes!” Eddie pursed his lips and clicked his fingers.

Patrick swallowed his noodles, “I pulled him off in the breakroom….and on the roof….and in his office, several times – once when he was on a conference call! – but not in the chairs!”

The discussion meandered into the depths of most unusual or memorable places to have received a hand job before Dom brought it back to his friend’s new job and life in San Francisco.

“So what have you got lined up at MDG? Is it gonna be weird being the boss of people you worked with?”

Patrick shrugged as he devoured more noodles, “I was talking to Owen about it, seriously asking what he does all day ‘cos, from what I can see all the boss does is sit in the office and wait for the shit to hit the fan when someone else fucks up! He said he thought the same thing, but actually the boss’s role is to keep everything running smoothly so that nothing does ever hit the fan, because when it does that just makes a shitload of work and it is always, ALL on the boss’s head!”

Eddie nodded, “Amen to that….it’s like the center….you just have to keep all the plates spinning with a little tug here and there, ‘cos if somethin’ goes wrong or stops working…or doesn’t GET PAID,” he stated pointedly, shouting, but grinning into Augustin’s ear, “then it is hell trying to get it all back again!”

Augustin pouted and looked up at his husband from beneath his dark, boyish lashes, “It was only once Eddie,” and his nose wrinkled on receiving a blown kiss and a wink from the big bear across from him.

“Well, I plan of keeping everything as calm and boring as possible….although….I haven’t told Owen yet, but I’ve got a meeting arranged with Michael Frith about some artwork for our new game!”

The other three men’s eyes widened and all necks twisted to stare at Patrick’s innocently smug looking expression.

Augustin spoke for the group, “Michael fucking, fuck me Frith?!”

Patrick nonchalantly nodded, “Yeah….why? He’s great at artwork!”

“Yeah and he’s as sexy as fuck!” 

“Well, I am meeting him on Tuesday, not arranged a time yet; his P.A. is getting back to me with when his flight gets in…and he wants to experience ‘the real San Francisco’ apparently, so I am cordially inviting you guys, and Doris and Malik to meet up with us….and Dom, can you make sure we can get a table outside at your place if I give you a time?” Patrick asked.

Eddie and Augustin exchanged wide mouthed squeals; neither in the slightest bit worried or surprised at their partner’s attraction to or interest in the sexy Mr Frith.  
Dom nodded sagely and drained the remnants of his beer, “Yeah, of course, tell me a time and I’ll cook for you both, then I can meet up with wherever you end up later I guess.”

“Cool…can you let Doris know?”

“Sure, she’ll be ridiculously badly behaved though…you do realise that!” Dom smirked.

“And that’s why I want her along….Mr Fuck-Me Frith wanted the real San Francisco, what better experience can there be than an evening of being Dorised!”

“Jesus! The poor guy! He’s gay, single and has a British accent….it’s the holy trinity as far as Doris is concerned!” Dom’s brain however was already working on which of his shirts and pants would be best suited to setting off his fantastic body to enable him to work AND party afterwards.

________

“So, where do you suggest I check out in San Francisco?” Michael asked as he flopped down into the chair across from Kevin in their favourite eating place.   
Beneath the table Frankie sniffed the intruding feet and resettled himself with his drooling jowls across the smart, brown lace ups belonging to the familiar smelling male.  
Kevin smiled and squinted up from his focus on his plate of chicken, quinoa and avocado salad as his friend made a hasty request to the waiter to bring him the same.

“Mate, it’s been a while since I was there…and to be fair, I didn’t actually stay that long….”

“….I suppose, and add to that spending a significant portion of that time in bed with Patrick Murray and Ok, I accept you may not be the best tour guide!”

The good natured banter between the two of them had started early in their friendship – maybe it was their shared British sense of humour – and Kevin always knew that he could give as good as he got back.

“Well, knowing you, as well as I do, all I need to tell you about is the best steam room to score in and you’ll be happy!” Kevin raised his eyebrows at Michael’s panting, ‘puppy dog’ response.

“Presumably you didn’t frequent them though!”

“No, but a friend of Patrick’s did…..he met a fairly serious boyfriend there actually!”

Michael shuddered at the comment, “On second thoughts don’t tell me any more….last thing I want is a fucking boyfriend…….although a friend I could fuck…..,” and he flashed another of his semi serious, semi joking smoulders towards Kevin.

“You can keep asking, but I’m always gonna say no! Now, shut up and eat your salad!” Kevin stated as the large, American sized plate of food arrived together with a glass of iced water.

“Seriously though. I want to see the real San Francisco gay scene….I’ve never been there. Any decent clubs of pubs you went to?” Michael asked as he attacked his food.

Kevin mulled over a mouthful of tomatoes, “The whole Castro area is good. The Stud is one of those San Francisco legends, but I liked some of the smaller places better. There was one called Esta Noche when I was there….that always had a good vibe about it…..not sure it’s there anymore though.”

“Well, I’m only going to be there for 2 nights. I’m meeting this MDG guy on Tuesday.”

Kevin nodded, taking a rest from his food to sip his beer and inhale the fresh, ozone scent of the sun and sea, “What’s his name? maybe I know him?”

Michael shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s on an email somewhere I’ll check it out on the flight…you know me, I’m useless with stuff like that, no point in me doing prep work now, I’ll have forgotten it!”  
Michael was great at anything artistic, but his dyslexia meant that he often struggled with the more ‘wordy’ aspects of business – he hated reading reports and lengthy proposals; even emails made his brain hurt, even with the pale blue filter Chloe had added to his laptop which had helped enormously.

“So you’re back on Thursday? OK, perfect timing for Tanya’s beach party on Friday; which you’ll be happy to know is no longer fancy dress themed!”

“Thank Christ for that!” came the somewhat muffled response from Michael through a mouthful of lettuce.

“Erm, she did request that if at all possible she’d prefer you to remain clothed this time,” and at this point Kevin affected a pretty decent imitation of Tanya’s drawl, “Juuuuuust for one fuuuucking paaaaarty!”

The dark haired man opposite merely shrugged, “Look, if you want me to keep my clothes on don’t have parties next to the beach….and don’t let me drink....or smoke joints……and make sure nobody suggests skinny dipping….!”

“I’m not sure San Francisco is ready for you, mate!” Kevin grinned, shaking his head at the ruefully impish smile of his friend.


	7. Looking at the past...and Looking from the goldfish bowl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A two sided chapter with part of Kevin and part of Patrick's lives.....am I purposefully saying something profound about how the separation of the chapters up until now has reflected their separate existences?!?  
> No!  
> It's just the Kevin bit seems too short for a chapter by itself!  
> He does a bit of reliving memories....  
> Patrick starts work and moans about his crap sex life to Dom.

Back in his office, overlooking the ocean, with Frankie curled happily in his plush basket by the floor to ceiling windows, Kevin worked through several emails and reflected on the fact that his friend would be revisiting a place where for a brief moment at least, he had been truly happy.   
He told himself that it was natural that his thoughts drifted to Patrick; of course they would, he was a significant part of his history at MDG and certainly his entire history in San Francisco. 

From the first moment he’d met Patrick Murray, at that games launch party, when he’d taken himself off to stop staring at him across the room only to be joined straddling a torpedo casing by the guy himself, he’d been completely absorbed by him.   
His smile, his open nature, his ridiculous need to be liked, his beautiful blue eyes…especially behind his glasses when he was focussing on something on his screen….and his amazing body….and those muscular thighs that he hated, but that Kevin had adored…..and that small mole nestled between his butt cheeks that he’d spent hours licking, savouring the slightly raised skin beneath his warm tongue.  
SHIT!.....this was not where his thoughts should be drifting!

Maybe he’d been hasty in telling Michael that he was fine with him contacting and working with MDG.

He noticed an email from Owen in his inbox and flicked on it, it was explaining the fact that he’d be ceasing his role as of the end of the day on Friday and that the new guy would be in touch with his own details as soon as he was settled, but would take over all communications and contacts.  
It was rare for Kevin to be involved with MDG now – Tru Gaming was moving in a different direction, with more of a focus on APP gaming and developing live multi player events.  
Nevertheless he fired of a standard, courteous reply, wishing him well and hoping that things went OK for the birth. 

He spent a while completing an online grocery order before grabbing his trainers, the mere act of which notified Frankie of the imminent potential of a walk.   
“Come on then!” he encouraged, smiling lazily as the dog bounded, puppy-like across to him, nails scrabbling for purchase on the wooden floors.   
They descended the wooden steps onto the sand and ran together to the water’s edge, Kevin adopting the slightly slow jog required for Frankie’s legs to cope with.

An hour later and the pair strolled back towards their home.   
Kevin picked up a smooth pebble and pressed it against his lips before skimming it across the waves and into the depths of the swirling foam.  
Frankie regarded his master's familiar behaviour with doleful, dark eyes. He sensed long ago that this wasn't a chase it game like with ball or stick or teddy-fluff thing, and he waited patiently for the claves beside him to turn on the sand before standing, stretching and following up the deck steps.

Kevin's thoughts returned to Patrick as he showered.  
His hand hadn’t intended to drag out the stripes of creamy cum which it eventually did, but the sound of thundering water from the rain shower head drowned out Kevin’s laboured breathing and ultimate shout of release.   
He hadn’t thought about Patrick like that for ages….not since last week!   
He could tell himself, every time it happened – either in the shower, or in the sea, or even in the comfort of his bed and cloud like duvet – that it wouldn’t happen again, that the thought of Patrick wouldn’t make him instantly hard and needy…..but it was pretty clear that his body wasn’t ready to agree with him just yet.

As he towelled himself dry after and fell back onto his bed he opened his wallet and withdrew the single picture he had retained of the man who he still loved.   
It was of them both, taken at the prom they’d gone to for the Gaymer event.   
Patrick had gone to so much trouble to organise it all, even getting Kevin that white corsage which was just visible on his lapel.  
Kevin had got rid of everything else that reminded him of Patrick….but he couldn’t destroy the picture he held between his thumb and forefinger.   
It was getting tatty now, but he could still see his own features; his body wrapped around Patrick, his arms crossed around his shoulders and his chin resting on the shoulder of Patrick’s jacket while Patrick smiled broadly into the camera, his hand resting on Kevin’s forearm.  
The picture had been taken a few minutes before they’d danced….sure they’d been fooling around and dancing all night, but that song….that slow dance together that they’d shared…….it had been one of the most profoundly moving and emotional experiences of his life….and when later that evening Patrick had said ‘I love you’, he’d felt elated…..like his heart wanted to burst through his chest.

He regarded the image again, his eyes slightly soft and misty, thinking of the last time he’d kissed those smiling lips, the last inhalation of Patrick Murray.   
He rubbed his finger and thumb together, the soft skin of that earlobe almost there between them as he drifted his eyes closed and allowed the moistness behind his lids to seep out.  
With a shake of his head however he returned the photograph to his wallet and patted the mattress for Frankie to clamber up beside him.  
“You want to sleep with daddy tonight? Hey? I could do with some company,” and he nestled himself around the warm, body of his beloved dog.  
“That’s right, nuzzle in good…..we’ll be fine won’t we, eh?”

____

Monday finally came around, Patrick was psyched to enter the MDG offices and in particular HIS goldfish bowl as the guy in charge.   
He’d picked up a few boxes of donuts on his way in and dumped them in the break room before surveying what had been Owen’s office….although it would always be Kevin’s office to his mind!  
The layout Owen had favoured was not to his taste and he spent twenty minutes or so before anyone else arrived scooting around the furniture, computers, plugs and chairs.  
When he was finally happy he sat down in his chair and realised he’d set the damn thing up as Kevin had had it arranged…..or near enough!   
However, it did at least mean that he couldn’t inadvertently glance across and imagine Kevin sat in a particular place, which he’d noticed himself doing a lot when he was shadowing Owen…..he would be the one sitting there now, so at least that solved the issue of about 50% of his daydreams!   
And if he avoided the roof top that would deal with a further 25% of them!

People, his staff, had started to arrive and get to work, most knew Patrick from way back, and they offered cheery waves, usually with a donut shoved in their mouths, at him through the glass.  
At around 10am he received a message from Dom:  
D : Hey there big boss man! How’s it going? You want a visitor?

P : God please, yes! Come over, it’s so boring here….everyone is being so nice to me…..it’s weird!

D : Be there in 10.

Ten minutes later Dom’s familiar, moustached face hove into view around the open door of his office. Patrick was on the phone trying to resolve some issue with one of the scoring algorithms for a recent game.  
Call ended, Patrick came from behind his desk and gave his friend a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Dom….I might go crazy in here!”  
Dom surveyed the office, “There’s a lot of glass! Can you have any privacy…at all? I mean I thought you and ‘you know who’ did all kinds of crazy in here!?”  
Patrick tilted his neck at the statement, “Oh we did ALL kinds of crazy….but mainly after hours, or on the weekends! Do you want coffee? Owen actually got a decent machine installed,” and he led Dom across to the break room.

As usual, Dom wasted no time surveying the various males in the office, his ‘Gaydar’ instantly honing in on a tall, lithe guy who flashed them a friendly smile from behind his monitor.  
“Details on blond guy with the piercing please,” Dom whispered as Patrick prepared coffees for them both at the barista style machine.

Patrick rolled his eyes slightly, “Dom, he’s about 23…ie almost half your age!”  
Dom replied with a casual shrug, "So?"  
“Yeah, OK, I should’ve thought through who I was talking to. OK then, he’s incredibly sweet, and a great level designer….and [whispered] I hear he likes being on top….sorry!”

Dom accepted his coffee and continued to openly run his eyes up and down the figure of ‘blond guy’ who had now moved across to stand over a female colleague as they discussed something on her screen.

“I could be on the receiving end…..if that was gonna be the prize!” Dom grinned, waggling his brow above his twinklingly mischievous eyes.  
“God Dom….can you please not try to fuck every gay guy in San Francisco…..at least not until I’ve got laid at least once!” Patrick mumbled as they took drinks a donut to split back to the office.

Dom picked up on Patrick’s dejection.  
“You need to get some?” Dom asked in his usual blunt manner, “I could give you a couple of contacts….if all you want is a fuck.”  
Patrick sank his teeth into the sugar coated pastry, a moustache of white flakes crowning his lips as he spoke, “Thanks, but….I think I want to go out and pick someone up….like we used to…remember?”

Dom grinned as he accepted the half eaten donut, “Oh, I remember….I still do it! Difference is I don’t always get lucky now…..” he shook his head ruefully. “I’m still in good shape! I’m financially the most comfortable I’ve ever been…..I’m just old!”  
“Hey! You have that whole silver fox thing going on Dom, you still have it! Anyway, you’re San Francisco Royalty….who am I? The new kid back in town with a shit tonne of baggage towing after him,” he reached back and swiped the rest of the donut from Dom’s fingers.

“Speaking of royalty, you’re meeting Michael Frith….he’s British, surely he’s got some distant link to the actual royal family….I mean have you heard that accent?” Dom’s eyebrows arched and he pursed his lips.  
Patrick grinned, “I know! He is sexy as fuck….I have to be totally professional though…I mean, I can’t talk business and then casually suggest a blow job can I?.....I mean seriously….can I?”

Dom drained his coffee and shook his head, “Patrick you can do anything! But the thing I have learned is that it won’t always work out like you want it to!” and he slapped Patrick on the shoulder as he got up and moved to leave.  
“You want take out tonight?” he asked casually.

Patrick wrinkled his nose and shook his head, “Nah….I have lots to do here, I need to do some serious research for this meeting with Mr Frith…..really, I do, I can’t come across like a tool….I’ll be here til late. I might give you a call if you’re working though….maybe grab some of that damn fine chicken of yours!”

Dom nodded and gave a wave as he sauntered off through the office; Patrick noticed blond guy (he was actually called Eli) move deliberately into Dom’s path and a short, seemingly amusing discussion ensued….and shit, Eli handed him something on a piece of paper.  
Shit!   
Dom was fucking his way through San Francisco….and Patrick was just standing by….eating donuts!


	8. Looking for a location and a name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Michael Firth (who is Richard Armitage in my head!) discovers who the new MDG guy is and has to decide how to proceed.  
> Tanya speaks to Kevin about it and he tells Michael to carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourite films really is What's up Doc?....and yes, I know the faucet discussion with Eunice takes place in the bathroom, but indulge me!

Michael Frith pulled his incredibly expensive, but typically understated overnight case behind him as he exited the gate and made his way through the airport in search of a cab into the city.  
He planned to dump his stuff and check in and had agreed, via Chloe’s correspondence with the MDG guy to meet him at their offices for the actual meeting to discuss the potential project he could have impact upon.  
His own suggestion was then to see if he ‘fit’ with the guy’s ethos by having a more relaxed evening around the town with him….he had realised from experience that in an artistic profession he needed to feel some kind of bond with whoever employed him, it just meant that they tended to click more easily with his artistic ideas.  
He still hadn’t fully read through the emails Chloe had sent through; he had planned to do so on the flight, but he’d ended up getting into conversation with the woman seated next to him regarding his opinions on an American becoming a member of the royal family…Michael, like most Brits had very limited opinions on the monarchy - they were just like Dennys…..just kind of there and taking up space - although he’d have most likely punched anyone who dared to insult his Queen!

So, he found himself screwing up his eyes to try and make out some of the information on the emails his P.A. had sent through to him.  
The address of the MDG offices was what he was trying to find, plus the name of the guy he’d be meeting.

The cab efficiently dropped him at his hotel; he’d asked for one for one of the best rooms at the Hilton in Union Square, for no other reason than that he adored the film What’s up Doc? featuring Barbra Streisand and it was one of the main locations.  
He checked in speedily and took an amused, and thankfully uninterrupted trip down one of the long corridors he recognised from the film, sneaking a quick look around before pretending he was Ryan O’Neal and knocking on his door and having a one way discussion with ‘Eunice’ about why bubbled water had come out of his faucet.

His room met with his standards – to be fair, as long as the bed was fitted with crisp linens and he had a bathtub as well as a shower he was happy! – and he unpacked the few items he’d brought with him before taking a quick shower to remove ‘airplane sweat’ and changing his shirt to meet with MDG man….he really did need to look up the guy’s name. 

Plugging in his laptop as he poured a glass of chilled water for himself he located his emails and scanned quickly to find the address of the MDG offices.  
He called down to the reception desk and queried the best way of getting there; it didn’t look too far from his hotel, and he was fond of walking, but maybe he wouldn’t risk it getting there, but he would certainly consider it for making his way back.  
He thanked the concierge who was arranging a cab for him and scrolled down to find the details of the MDG new boss man’s name.

He froze with his finger poised above the touchscreen as the name came into view.  
Fuck?

He knew that name….shit he even knew what the guy attached to that name looked like……fucking shit, he even knew the guy attached to that name’s cock size….and girth!!!!!!!!

It was Patrick Murray….Kevin’s Patrick.

His immediate reaction was of disappointment in that he wouldn’t be able to try and hit on him, but it was very hastily replaced by a feeling of confusion and frustration.  
Should he call Kevin and tell him?  
What would the purpose of that be?  
Should he abandon the meeting period?  
He’d discussed the prospect of working with MDG, but not the concept of actually working with Patrick.

Michael knew that Kevin truly wasn’t over him.  
He and Tanya often talked about it with and without him present……and now a different feeling came over him; one of irritation and annoyance – Kevin had been completely broken by this guy!  
Patrick Murray had caused a wound so deep within his friend that he still hadn’t been able to heal it…and within the next hour he, Michael, was supposed to sit opposite this guy, make small talk and cut a deal….and SHIT, he’d asked for an evening around San Francisco with him.

Fuck!?!

He picked up his phone and texted Tanya first off….she’d know what to do….she was the sanest and wisest person they knew.

M : New MDG guy is PATRICK! WTF do I do? Not met him yet. Not told K….advice please. 

His car had arrived whilst he was awaiting a reply and he folded his long, lithe limbs into the back seat. 

His phone rang and he noticed it was Tanya.  
T :”Oh my GOD! Michael, shit! How the hell did you not already know this?”

M; “I know, I know….I’ve only just looked at the sodding email and seen it. What the hell do I do? I mean do I bail? Do I call Kevin now and tell him? And if I tell Kevin should I also tell Patrick that I know who he is?”

T : “Ok, one thing at a time…..you can’t bail on the meeting – because the meeting is business not personal……and this guy isn’t anything to you other than the ex of a friend…”

M: “….I’m sorry Tanya, but he’s the ex who almost destroyed a friend’s heart and ability to form a relationship since, except for with a bloody dog!”

T : “I know….but….do the meeting. And, you need to tell Kevin….but I don’t think you need to tell Patrick that you are close friends with him…..that would put everyone in a weird position for an initial meeting!”

M : “Shit! So I should call Kevin now?”

T: “You know what, let me deal with Kevin, I’ll pop round and tell him. You focus on calming down and getting your head back into business mode…..and for fuck’s sake Michael don’t try to screw him!”

M: “Tanya!!!!! What the fuck do you take me for?”

T: “For the type of gay guy who’ll try to fuck anything hot with a pulse!”

M : “Don’t worry…..in this instance I’ll be like a fucking monk….and I don’t mean a monk who fucks!”

They hung up and Michael vaguely stared out of the car window at the bustle of San Francisco passing by……it really was a great city. It had a small, almost European feel to it somehow and he could see that walking around would be easy, he’d definitely make his way back to the hotel on foot he decided.  
______

Tanya took a deep breath as she slipped her tanned feet into slides and pulled her hair back in a square scarf tied at then nape of her neck.  
She called as she knocked and went into Kevin’s house via the deck stairs; Frankie didn’t even raise a drooling jowl as she was such a familiar presence.  
Kevin had just finished showering following a run and workout on his home weights. He came sauntering out in a hastily thrown on pair of his favoured baggy cargo shorts and dragging a t shirt depicting some Keith Haring artwork over his head.

“Hey!” he smiled at Tanya’s unexpected, but not unwelcome appearance, “I am in the mood for a serious latte….can I tempt you?” he made his way across to his NASA-like coffee machine and clicked a few switches as he sought out his preferred mug from the unit above it.

Tanya wrinkled her brow but nodded, “You know I can never say no to coffee….but plain and black for me sweetie….keep your weak, milky crap!”  
He was about to banter back when he noticed her slightly drawn expression.

“What’s up? You look perturbed!” he continued allowing water to drip through into a mug for Tanya as he hunted out sugar-free flavouring syrup and poured some into his own wide-rimmed cup.

“You need to be sitting down,” she stated bluntly.  
Her own experience with bad news made her pretty empathetic at delivering it….it had become one of her unique skills!

Kevin focussed on making the 2 drinks and brought them over as Tanya hitched herself up onto one of his high stools beside the kitchen island.  
He sat opposite and rested his bare feet on the bar before taking a slurp of his vanilla flavoured mug of milky perfection.

“OK….so I’m sat? What’s up?”

“Michael is crap with emails,” she began.

Kevin quirked his eyebrows, “Ok…….that isn’t news really…..I’m guessing there is something more…”

“Yeah….Babe, the new guy at MDG….it’s Patrick,” she explained calmly.  
She said nothing further and focussed on her coffee, allowing the information to perforate into the reasoning part of Kevin’s brain.

Kevin himself tried to digest the information.  
He sipped his coffee, almost automatically, no longer tasting the warm liquid as it trickled down his throat…..instead he tasted the unforgettable flavour of Patrick’s warm mouth; the taste of his skin on his tongue, the taste of his…..fuck!

The logical part of him wasn’t anywhere near kicking in.

“Why the fuck has he only just found THAT out?” he erupted, banging his mug down on the polished wooden surface, splashing hot coffee across his hand and around the cup.

Tanya remained silent, sipping her coffee and glancing from the corner of her eye at Kevin’s reaction.  
He paced across to the wood burner in the corner and back again. Then wandered to stare out of the floor to ceiling windows facing the sea.  
After several silent moments her returned to the island and Tanya.

“I told him I’d tell you. He wanted to ring you,” she explained softly.

Kevin nodded. He could imagine the turmoil in his friend’s voice as he’d spoken to Tanya. 

“OK…..OK…..shit!” Kevin stuttered.

Tanya allowed him time. 

The thought that Michael would be meeting Patrick….in that office….that place that held so many glorious and tragic memories for him….shit!

“Is it gonna make a difference?” she finally asked as Kevin sat with his head down resting in his splayed palms. “Big scheme of shit?”

He remained staring at the wood grain of his counter top, “No,” he mumbled softly, “He’s working there, he’s probably still blissfully happy with Ritchie…..is Michael gonna tell him about knowing me?”  
Tanya shook her head, “I told him not to…..it would kinda make things even more difficult don’t you think?”  
“I’m not sure there could be an ‘even more difficult’ scenario!” Kevin added air quotes and rose up from his stool again, this time walking more calmly across to his refrigerator and bringing back a bowl of cubed melon which he placed between them on the tall table.  
Absently he ate several pieces, Tanya did the same.

“Well…..FUCK!” Kevin stated, looking glumly at his almost empty coffee mug.

“Want something stronger?” Tanya asked.  
“You can take the man out of England, but you can’t take the blood to alcohol level out of the man!” he smirked as Tanya moved to his exquisite and well stocked liquor cabinet, returning with a bottle of decent Bourbon and 2 glasses.

“Well…..here’s to….? What are we drinking to?” asked Tanya after pouring a couple of fingers in one glass and a half measure in the other.  
Kevin took the first glass and lifted it, “What about we drink to having friends….who’ll care enough to call and come round with crappy news!”  
Tanya clinked her glass to his and repeated the final phrase, “To crappy news!” and they downed their drinks, sucking in their breath as the amber liquid heated their throats.

Kevin poured a further measure for himself and Tanya which they sipped more calmly.

“Should I send Michael a text do’ya think? Let him know I’ll be OK?” he asked.

Tanya raised her brows, “Does that mean you ARE going to be OK? Kevin….honey, this is Patrick.”  
“I know!.....but this is also Michael…..he knows enough to not bring things up, and he’s doing business with him in San Francisco…..so…..Tanya, I can’t live with him hanging over me my whole life…..you of all people should get that!”

Tanya’s eyes softened, “True…..just…..don’t expect to be able to predict or accept every feeling or emotion that this brings up…..and don’t forget we’re here…me and Michael.”  
Kevin nodded.  
He crossed to place his now empty glass into the sink.  
For the first time Frankie seemed to sense the changed atmosphere in his surroundings and waddled across to nuzzle his wet nose against his master’s firm calf.  
___

The car drew up outside the MDG offices and Michael Firth alighted and straightened the slight creases from his trousers and ran one of his hands across his stubbled chin, setting his jaw firmly.  
There was a buzz on his phone – he’d switched it to vibrate mode – and he glanced at the sender casually, but focussed quickly and brought the device to his eyes.  
K : Don’t worry. Do your job…….but don’t fuck him!


	9. Looking for an outfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first appearance of Doris...although only via phone!  
> Michael goes to his meeting with Patrick, who of course finds him as sexy as hell.  
> Kevin has a moment.....in my view, that final scene between them makes it so clear that the guy is broken up and would have done anything for Patrick to make it work with him......and much as I love Ritchie too, I feel Kevin would definitely only want his darling Pattycakes to be happy...even if that means being with someone else.

Patrick had worked diligently throughout the morning and was now in that fifteen minute window of waiting for his next appointment – too little time to start anything, but too long to simply sit doing nothing in full view of his employees!  
He straightened his desk….again, and checked his appearance on his phone using selfie mode on his camera.  
He had his glasses on…..he decided to keep them on to meet Michael Firth….they made him look more authoritative….and if he decided to move in that direction he could do a sexy sucking thing with the arm when he removed them!

Stop it Patrick!   
This is professional! 

He decided to pee and went to the shared bathrooms.  
Then he side tracked into the break room and selected bottles of chilled water which he arranged on the small cabinet – the one which had displayed that ridiculous golden award of Kevin’s (shit….he really needed to stop thinking in that way about HIS office now….not Kevin’s office!)

“Michael Firth to see Patrick Murray,” the deep, slightly Yorkshire accented drawl rumbled across the desk making the young secretary flutter slightly in her snug jeans.  
“I’ll buzz you through. aahm….his office is just through this way,” she fumbled as his mesmeric green eyes played havoc with her ability to carry out her usual duties. 

Danni, according to her name badge, escorted Michael through a small, tiled passage way and into the busy open-plan offices of MDG.   
The glass office in the centre was striking if, in his mind, somewhat impractical.   
He realised that he was on the receiving end of several admiring glances as he followed Danni and cast a dazzling smoulder across at the open mouthed drool from Eli, mentally guessing that the guy was about 20 years his junior…..but looked like he had a great mouth for giving head!

He shook the notion away and focussed himself on facing Patrick Murray instead.

Patrick saw the overwhelmingly masculine figure of Michael approaching behind Danni….he also saw Eli’s ‘fuck me eyed stare’.  
“Oh no! Not this time!” he murmured and settled himself with a quick flick of his tongue across his lips.

“Patrick, this is Michael Firth you’re expecting him,” Danni announced – Patrick had insisted on keeping the concept of first names only within the office – and stepping back out of the office, closing the door behind her as Michael advanced, large (Patrick noticed!) hand outstretched.

“Mr Firth…..it’s great to meet you. I’m really pleased that you’re interested in working with us at MDG,” Patrick stated, shaking the firm grip and trying to control his breathing as he inhaled the subtle, incredibly spicy scent of the Englishman’s cologne.

Michael pressed his narrow, pink lips together – Jesus, no wonder Kevin had fallen for the guy; he was so open and sweet looking…..the glasses were sexy too!

“Patrick……….good to meet you too and let’s see whether we can come to some agreement artistically…..see whether out tastes overlap!” he released Patrick’s hand and took the seat he indicated across the desk which Michael noticed was almost OCD-like in terms of neatness.

Patrick was appraising Michael Firth in the flesh….and oh my, what a delightful collection of flesh it was!   
Those legs were long and lean, he was wearing at least a size twelve and a half shoe….which combined with the length of his fingers and forearms boded well.  
His features were seductively dark and chiselled.   
The precise trim on his dark beard, his close cropped hair and his almost Grecian nose….oh dear God, he was lickable!

Clearing his throat however, Patrick sat himself, offered water and so they engaged in a frank, often amusing and highly agreeable on both sides conversation regarding the next MDG game and the part Michael could play. Patrick was briefly shocked at the difference in Michael's accent compared to his recollection of Kevin's Essex drawl, but damn there was something about an English accent...what was it Eddie had said about Kevin.....'he talked pretty like!"

Patrick had been pleased to discover that Michael’s interest lay in more than simply creating a piece of artwork for the packaging and cover.   
Instead they discussed how he could have input into some of the overall design concept; the colour palate for backgrounds on the levels; the overall style of the game with an almost Art-Deco theme being something he was keen to develop further.

Two hours later Patrick had almost managed to make his erection subside. Although there had been a couple of occasions when he’d watched Michael gulping down water, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, followed by a quick flick of his thumb across those narrow, dusky tinged lips when it had been teetering on solving it’s own problem inside his pants!

Michael rose and extended that same, large hand towards Patrick,  
“Patrick, it has been a pleasure to finally meet you. You’re exactly like….I mean…..you seem like someone I could work with, so I hope it’s mutual.”  
Patrick reluctantly allowed his hand to be released from Michael’s grip.

“Oh, er, yeah….definitely….and are you still interested in the full San Francisco experience….I mean, no pressure, but….I’m more than happy to take you for an authentic taste of this city,” he asked, pouting in an adorable manner, causing a mild flutter to Michael’s unruly cock and forcing him not for the first time to repeat the phrase ‘NOT FOR YOU’ in his head.

“I’d love that, Patrick. What time and where? I’m planning to walk back to my hotel and enjoy a bit more of the vibe, but then I have no plans. I’m pretty flexible.”

Fuck, I bet he is!

Patrick mentally shook away the image he had of Michael demonstrating his limber hips, although maybe he’d finish in the office early and revisit that little mental image again once he got back to his apartment….with the benefit of some lube…..and Kleenex!

What he actually said was, “So, maybe you could meet me at the Chicken Window on Castro….ask at the hotel they’ll know it….one of my buddies is the owner and it is quickly becoming a San Francisco legend! So we can eat there….they do non chicken too if you….”  
“Oh, don’t worry…I’m definitely a meat eater!” Michael added, thinking about how in normal circumstances he’d have used that as a line on anyone else…..and it would have definitely lead to him getting more than a pile of chicken wings!

NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR YOU.

Patrick on the other hand was now adding another gloriously inappropriate image to his scenario….yeah, he was definitely gonna need lube!

“Is 8 OK?”  
Michael nodded and raised his hand in a 3 fingers almost salute, “See you later Patrick. I’m looking forward to getting to see the real, fun side of this place!”  
With a grin and a waft of ‘Jesus fucking Christ perfect man cologne’ he was strolling nonchalantly through the office and out of the foyer, his hands resting lightly in the pockets of his jacket.

Michael got his bearings and ambled casually back to his hotel, stopping off for a late lunch and an iced coffee and to send a text off to Kevin.

Patrick Murray twirled in his office chair several times and felt the growl emanating from his throat as he thought about Michael Firth.

He picked up his phone and called Dom:  
D : Hey! 

P: Dom, Jesus, Michael Firth is as lickable as the bejeebers!

D : [laughing] OK, well….we kind of knew that from the pictures. I take it he’s a charming, charismatic type…..does he smell good?

P: Oh my God…..Dom, I don’t know what cologne he wears but it should be called ‘Man smell’, no, no, it should be called, ‘Sexy Man Smell’.

D : OK, and is he a hugger? I mean will I get an up close sniff later?

P: Well, he was a hand shake and extra hand on forearm kind of guy today….but he said some cute as fuck comment about being a meat eater…..I mean, Jesus, he could do whatever he wanted with my meat!

D : Patrick! You need to try to keep this professional if you’re gonna work together! Are you still coming by to the window? I mean, I AM still gonna meet him right?

P : Yeah, around 8, I’m meeting him there, so keep an eye out and be nice to him if he’s early, or I’m late!

D : Oh, if he is as delectable as you say I’ll occupy him…..although he’s a little old for my taste!

P: I on the other hand have no such issue, so be nice and say hi, but leave him for me! [clapping his free hand in seal claps against his own thigh]

D : OK! See you later….get some work done….or are you planning on going home and working on memories of Mr Firth!?!

P: Dom! ….Maybe!........Jesus he is sexy Dom! Fuck, so hot!

They both hung up.  
____

Patrick didn’t leave the office instantly, but did finish things earlier than usual and headed off to his apartment via the decent grocery store where he picked up juice, milk, iced tea and a selection of cheeses and antipasti…plus chips.  
He still didn’t have all of his clothes with him so he detoured to one of his favourite streets for wandering down and buying clothes.   
He had ‘Work Patrick’ stuff, but ‘Party Patrick’ needed a new wardrobe….especially if he was going to impress Mr Fuckable Firth.

After trying on a couple of items he bought a pair of flat fronted trousers in a navy blue moleskin fabric and a pair of suede lace ups which matched them. He found a couple of shirts which he liked and bought both. He also picked up a couple of pairs of clinging Armani briefs……the sight of the name printed on the waistband made him think about the same banded elastic around the washboard abs of Kevin….and more importantly slipping that band down and sucking his delicious cock into his mouth…..

SHIT!....he’d almost made it through half a day without thinking about him!

____

Doris’ voice on speaker phone had it’s usual nasal and unserious tone :

D: So what? He’s like some English sex god that Patrick wants as a replacement for Kevin?

Dom : Well not exactly….he’s doing business with the guy…..

D : …Oh I bet he is!!

Dom : Seriously! He’s in town for a couple of nights and Patrick wants us to be nice….so you’re in right?

D : Me? The opportunity of partying with a bunch of gays and watching Patrick try to get laid by an English dude?! Oh I’m there!

Dom : So they’re coming by the window around 8 and we’ll be checking out a few bars and clubs…..do you wanna meet us later?

They organised times and rendezvous locations before signing off and Dom returned his full attention to dealing with the garlic and spice paste for the next batch of his chicken.  
He handed over to Corey who was one of his most experienced members of staff.  
“I’ll be back later on but I’m not really working tonight, so will we be OK staff wise? Can we get someone else in or are we good?” he asked as he dragged on his jacket.  
Corey shrugged, “Dom, we’ll be fine. You meet your buddies and do the whole schmoozing thing…..try and get the tall, streak of sex-god to get involved on your new menus!”  
Dom shook his head, but pointed his index finger at his employee, “I’ll work on it!” he smirked.

\---

K : Hey, what’s San Francisco like? You seeing the sights?

M : It’s fabulous! It feels so different to other US cities I’ve been to!

K : [nodding] Mmmmm, yeah…it does have a unique vibe to it. So…..you’ve met Patrick….

M : [long pause]……..We had our meeting…yep. 

K : [clearing his throat]….is he….I mean…..was he….

M : He looked good Kevin.

K : Good…..that’s good.

M : I’m meeting him later on….you know how I work….I have to get on with someone to work effectively….so we’re going to some chicken place to eat and I’ve asked him to show me a bit of the city. You OK with that?

K : Michael, mate, you need to do whatever you do….this is just professional. If you’re doing the chicken thing he’ll probably take you to one of Dom’s places…..just….don’t tell me too much about him and Ritchie….I mean I assume he’ll bring him along….so…..just…..don’t get pissed and send me pictures, OK?

M : I won’t…..I promise…..I won’t. Kevin?

K : Yeah?

M : ……..he’s beautiful………….but I won’t fuck him! Talk later OK?

K : ‘kay. 

After hanging up Kevin spent a while staring out at the ocean.   
Just further up the coast that same ocean was almost brushing the streets that Patrick was walking along.   
He thought about what Michael had said.....Patrick was beautiful.....he'd never NOT think him beautiful.  
He really wished he hadn't spent so much of their last meeting shouting at him and being snarky.....but the truth was, he had almost fallen apart across the table from him that day.  
"I'd have done anything for you Patrick," he mumbled aloud, still staring at the gently crashing waves.  
He took a deep breath and brushed the moistness from his eyes with his thumbs. His existence in LA; his attempt to get on with his life; his agreement to allow Michael to work with Patrick....it was all he could do to show the man that he truly would do ANYTHING for him...even if that thing was leaving him to find happiness with another man.  
Frankie came tottering across to his master's legs. Kevin crouched and smoothed his fingers against the mutt's velvety ears.  
"I hope he's happy......I want him to be happy.....even if it isn't with me," he shook away his own self pity and nuzzled his now damp cheek against Frankie's head. "You love me don't you Baby?"  
The response of Frankie's wet tongue across his bristled chin was enough to lift his melancholy......for now.


	10. Looking from across the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with me.  
> I have broken the back of this section - it has gone a bit out of control on the word count....but hey, anyone who knows my style knows that that tends to happen!  
> Michael goes out and meets Patrick's SF buddies - the gang - Doris, Augustin, Eddie and of course Dom!  
> There is definite attraction and both keep telling themselves that they only do 'no strings attached', 'fun', hook ups!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck me! I LOVE writing Doris!!!!!

As instructed Michael had enquired at the hotel for the location and directions towards the chicken window on Castro, and as Patrick had told him, the place seemed to be almost legendary.

He had changed into a pair of dark jeans that cupped his tight arse perfectly and a fine knit, v neck sweater in a shade of rich red that suited his dark looks amazingly well and showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist beautifully….it also displayed a flash of his dark, neatly trimmed down chest hair.  
He had added a black, leather belt with a slim, burnished buckle and black, nubuck lace ups.  
His hair styled itself, and his facial hair was looking sharp, so he simply added a dab of his favourite, spicy cologne and dragged it across his hair, chin and chest before adding his classic Tag Heuer watch.  
He knew he looked good – he took care of himself, he wasn’t big headed, but he also knew that he had everything in his favour in terms of the way he looked….and he’d also been highly aware of Patrick Murray flashing him dazzling smiles and alluring gazes from beneath his lowered, fluttering lashes…..shit!

NOT FOR HIM, NOT FOR HIM, NOT FOR HIM!!!

Anyway, realising the chicken place wasn’t far he decided to walk and absorb a little more of the San Francisco atmosphere.  
He liked it, it felt comfortable, so he set off a little earlier than probably necessary intending to maybe stop for a drink en route.  
_____

Dom had changed into a decent pair of charcoal coloured jeans, an obscenely well fitted black t shirt and one of his favoured, checked shirts with detailing at the shoulder yoke.  
He secretly wanted to be a cowboy…..but then again, which gay man didn’t share that fantasy!?

He had thrown his apron over his outfit upon reaching his diner and, as always, joined in service, including the crappy jobs as well as the one he enjoyed most (which was lurking at the grill and dishing up the orders so that he could ogle any decent guys who turned up……and this was San Francisco….and he was Dom…..so there was never any shortage!)

He had made sure he was looking decent this evening – the prospect of getting up close and personal with the delicious Mr Firth was definitely an incentive…although technically Patrick had called dibs…..although as Dom had pointed out, surely he of all people should be aware of the dangers of mixing business with pleasure!  
The window was busy in the early evening, but just a nice level of activity and customers to make it possible to converse easily and not build up too much of a sweat.

Michael ambled up to the parklet and hung back fractionally as he wasn’t able to see Patrick, and glancing at his watch he realised he was really quite a bit too early. Maybe he should go and grab a drink?  
He noticed a coffee house opposite and wandered in, picking up an iced mint tea, taking it back outside to sit at one of the small, outdoor tables which gave him a good view of the busy chicken window…..and the rather attractive guy dressed in an apron and plaid shirt who was smiling rather deliciously at the customers as he handed over their orders and engaged them in clearly amusing banter.  
Jesus, he was fucking hot!

Dom noticed the slim, dark and intense looking man who approached and then detoured across to the coffee house opposite.  
He looked cool and sexy, but his eyes were covered with aviator shades and he’d gone into the coffee house whilst Dom was in the process of taking more cooked chicken across to the pass, so he’d only managed a glimpse.  
As he passed out a completed order and shared a joke with one of their regulars he noticed that Shades Guy was now seated sipping iced tea across the road.  
His long legs were sticking out in front of him, casually crossed at the ankles as he pulled out his phone and adjusted his glasses fractionally to look at the screen.  
Shit, he was hot.

Patrick made his way towards the Chicken window in time to meet Michael Firth.  
He noticed that Doris was already there; she looked cool with her usual mixture of easy going elegance and self confidence shining through.  
“Patrick fucking Murray, look at you, you big streak of sexy man ass!” she shrieked as he approached.  
She flung herself around him and pressed multiple kisses across the face of her friend.  
From his position behind the counter Dom just grinned and flashed his teeth beneath his slightly greying, but still lustrous moustache before appearing from the side door and scooping his closest and oldest friend into a warmly loving embrace.

From his position across the road Michael Firth saw Patrick’s arrival and was about to lever himself up from his comfortable sprawl, but he was forced into making a stifled growl as he caught sight of the plaid checked hunk who appeared to have an incredibly firm, muscular body.  
He had appeared from the interior of the chicken place and was running his splayed palms across the back of an attractive, blond haired woman who was biting quite comically on his ears.

Michael found himself breaking into a wolfish, but natural grin as he twitched his neck, removed his shades and strode across the road and towards Patrick’s familiar face.  
He slid his hands flat against his hips in his front pockets and couldn’t help but meet the piercing eyes of the hottie with delectable facial hair and plaid shirt.

Patrick turned as Dom released him, catching Michael’s slightly side tracked gaze and following it’s trajectory towards his handsome, older friend.  
Of course the guy would notice Dom….Jesus he was as sexy as fuck!

“Michael!” Patrick greeted him, extending his hand in a manner which invited either a handshake or a one armed embrace. Michael opted for the latter given his previous acquaintance with Mr Murray.  
Patrick inhaled the delicious scent of the Englishman, and forced himself not to whimper as the man’s firm, lithe body pressed briefly against his torso.

“Good to see you again, Patrick. I assume you know these people; or is everyone this friendly in SF?” he smirked.

From somewhere beside him Patrick heard a distinctive rumble emanate from Dom’s chest…..there was something about a British accent, and this deep, blunt voweled version inparticular that he hadn’t been able to prepare Dom for….and he’d made a similar sound himself in his office earlier in the day!

Patrick instead turned towards his friends, “This is Doris…..she’s vulgar, brutally honest and quite frankly amazing,” he smiled as Doris pretended to make herself vomit with her fingers in her throat.  
Michael however held out his hand and brought hers to his lips in a chivalric action, which made Doris growl obscenely, “Oh my gaaaaaahd! Patrick. The guy is a knight….he’s like Prince fuckin’ Harry….oh my God, it’s nice to meet you Michael….Jesus do that to Dom and he’ll fuckin’ explode!”

Michael released her hand, grinning, and turned his attention and body towards Dom.  
“So, I’m guessing you’re Dom?” he stated, making the name into a short, single syllabled exclamation rather than pronouncing it with the longer ‘o’ almost an ‘aaaaa’ as favoured by Americans.

Dom had managed to prevent further, random grunts and growls from escaping by pressing his lips together and placing both hands on his muscular waist, letting his shirt flap across behind his wrists.  
The two men were facing each other fully, Doris noticed Dom’s ‘tell’ – the one only she could spot behind his eyes – and quirked her lips into an amused smirk…..it was like watching 2 stags face off.

Dom nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the green pools facing him, “Yep….I’m Dom…….I hear we’re giving you the full San Francisco experience this evening!” he stated, allowing his tongue to traverse his lips.

Michael’s gaze was naturally drawn to the flicker of pink beneath the lush, 'salt and pepper' facial hair of the guy opposite.  
Shit! he was fucking, fucking hot…..and unlike Patrick who was NOT FOR YOU….this guy…..Jesus, he looked like he was MADE FOR YOU!

Sirens were going off in Michael’s brain…..warning claxons which he usually paid close attention to……signals that said things like, ‘Don’t get involved long term’, ‘Don’t fall in love’, ‘Don’t promise anything to anyone’, ‘Don’t take risks with your heart ‘cos you’ll get it broken, again’…..however Dom’s deep drawl and alluring smile seemed to be cutting through all of them.

“I am indeed….I’ve never been to the city before…and you know……it should be right up my street!” Michael stated, making it abundantly clear to those around him, if they weren’t already aware, that he was stating himself to be gay.

“Oh Jesus….another horny fucking gay?!” Doris whined, “Just once Patrick….why can’t you meet a non-gay Brit…..I mean give me a fuckin’ chance!”

Patrick rolled his eyes and stared at her, “Doris! I don’t know what you mean……I don’t know any other gay British guys…..not anymore,” had added softly as he felt her slip her arm around his waist.

Doris was the best, most intuitive person he knew.  
She knew he wasn’t over Kevin, and despite her misgivings and initial dislike of him – based on the fact that in her opinion he was not being truthful to his partner or to her friend – she had been sucker punched when he’d left Jon to be with Patrick….and she’d been totally floored when Patrick had then ended things so quickly without giving their relationship a chance to work or not.  
Of course she’d only ever discussed this with Dom, but bottom line, she knew Patrick wasn’t over Kevin.

Michael laughed, causing both Patrick and Dom to disguise their fluttering moans and dreamy eyed expressions – the guy had a gloriously open and sexy laugh! – and mimicked Dom’s hands on slender hipped pose, “What makes you think I’m horny?” he quipped, playfully.  
Doris instantly liked him, “…..because you’re gay….and you’ve got a pulse! Now Dom, feed me fuckin’ chicken!”  
Dom groaned and indicated a section of the parklet he’d set aside with a crudely fashioned ‘reserved’ sign.

“OK, so….I take it you’re OK with chicken…it’s pretty much all we serve, although I can do vegan options…” he focussed on Michael as they arranged themselves and slid into the various seats either side of the wooden table.  
“I’m definitely a meat eater,” Michael stated, his eyebrows quirking fractionally at Dom in a way that made the older man glad he was about to disappear inside the building as he wasn’t sure he could keep control of his burgeoning erection for much longer!  
“Well OK! Ahem……Patrick, I’ll bring a sharing platter OK and let me get organised and I’ll join you,” Dom stated.

Doris shook the six pack of beer she had brought with her vaguely, “We’re starting on these, but I think Margarita’s may be required Dom…..you make the best….Dom, please?” she wheedled.

Patrick had been rendered slightly dumbstruck by his realisation that Michael was clearly more interested in Dom than in himself….and realistically it was possibly a better outcome given that he needed to be able to work professionally with the guy….and he of all people knew the pitfalls of getting romantically or even just sexually involved with a co-worker!

Dom retired inside to do whatever he did to make chicken delectable and the trio opened beers and clinked.  
“Cheers!” Michael stated in his gruff accent.  
Patrick affected his mock English accent as he responded, making the other man almost spit his first mouthful across the table.  
“Good God! That is the worst English accent!” he stated, wiping his stubbled chin slightly as Doris swilled down a large slug from her bottle.  
“But…your accent is not at all like the English I know,” she stated absently, catching Patrick’s warning glare and responding with a shrug and an open-mouthed, silent ‘what?’

Michael assumed she was referring to Kevin’s accent.  
She must have known Patrick back then…and yes, his Essex Boy version was very unlike the slightly Yorkshire timbre of his own…..but he pressed his lips together - it would possibly not be the right time to admit that he knew of Patrick and Kevin's history....or indeed that he virtually lived next door to the man!

Fortunately the reappearance of Dom, having slipped out of his plaid shirt and now looking almost criminally buff in his tight, black T shirt was enough to divert the conversation.  
“OK! We have chicken, we have potato skins, we have beans,” Dom placed an enormous platter on the table and cast a quick glance at Michael; the only vacant seat was next to him, and his wide, thighed position meant there was not enough space.  
Michael captured Dom’s twinkling gaze, having scanned his eyes lazily across the muscular shoulders and abdomen of the guy.  
“I can’t wait! I’m ravenous!” he huskily murmured, hitching his position sideways on the benchseat to provide space for Dom.

Dom slid himself next to the slender but remarkably firm body of Michael Firth as everyone dived into the food with gusto.

Beneath the table Dom pressed his thigh close to Michael’s and felt a slight pressure back from the other man.  
He glanced down and across as he wiped his mouth several times; there was a definite, positive bulge visible beneath the stretched fabric of his trousers….and Dom was only just managing to contain his own desire – the guy smelled amazing.

Across the table Patrick was slightly side tracked by the sight of Michael Firth stripping chicken from it’s bones by sucking and gnawing at the flesh with his teeth, creating an almost obscene shimmer of grease across his lips which he occasionally wiped with either his napkin (fuck!) or his thumb (fuuuuuuck!)

Doris was enjoying being the benign observer!  
Patrick was a twitching, giddy mess beside her…..so what was new?  
Dom was being brooding and flirty….and was casting Mr Firth all manner of ‘fuck me’ eyes.  
And Michael was…..well, definitely easy on the eye….and definitely as flirty and warm as the other gay men she knew.  
She had noticed a slight change to his expression whenever he glanced across at Patrick….almost a sadness behind his eyes…..maybe…..or maybe it was just the jug of margarita making her see things that weren’t there!  
It wasn’t unheard of!

Dom squeezed himself out to check on a few things in the kitchen part way through the meal, and took a further opportunity to regard the delicious Mr Firth from afar.

“So, Patrick…..now that you’re back out there, what are you looking for?” Doris asked, through a mouthful of chicken.

Michael’s eyes widened slightly…..Patrick was back out there?  
He was single?  
What had happened to Ritchie?  
And how could he enquire suitably without giving away that he knew exactly who he was?

Patrick rolled his eyes slightly and tried to avoid staring at Michael’s intense and somehow interested looking green-eyed gaze…..maybe he WAS interested in Patrick’s white gazpacho after all?  
Maybe he’d just though he was in a relationship…….maybe he needed to up the ante and make it clear that he wasn’t!

“I’m not looking for serious right now, that’s for sure!” Patrick smirked, “Ritchie was……well, it’s been a long time being serious with him….so maybe I need a few meaningless flings,” he added through mouthfuls of chick peas and sour cream.

Michael seized the opportunity, “And Ritchie was?”  
Doris pounced, “Ritchie was a super sexy Latino God…..who sadly dragged our Pattycakes away from the city and then spat him out….a couple of weeks ago…..he’s clearly devastated!” she indicated the man beside her who was still stuffing his mouth with food.

Patrick snorted slightly and used his hands to signify, ‘give me a break’ or ‘give me five minutes to empty my mouth’.

Doris instead turned her attention to Michael, “Patrick’s return to San Francisco coincides with a break up…..he left due to one, then came back, then left again for lurve, and now he’s back…..fuck knows what he wants this time!?” she quipped.

Michael chuckled; he couldn’t help it; he liked Doris’ honesty and straight talking. She reminded him of a more blunt version of Tanya!

Patrick emptied his mouth, “Look! I’m back here to work….and to spend time with all of you guys again…..and…..,” he was interrupted by Dom’s deep, resonant drawl,  
“…..AND…..if he happens to get sucked off in the steam room of the gym by one or more of this fair city’s gay population so much the better! Am I right?”

A resounding shout went up and much back slapping and squawking emanated from the table as they finished final mouthfuls and disposed of napkins, hand wipes and empty bottles and cups.

“Where are we meeting Augustin and Eddie?” Patrick asked as he stood and brushed a few crumbs form his clothing.  
Michael had also eased himself out of the seat and was unfolding his long, lithe limbs, tugging his trousers slightly flatter at the thigh.  
“There’s a bar just a little way along on Castro, they’re meeting us there, but you know their time keeping?!” Dom explained as he wandered back inside the chicken window and returned moments later, tucking his wallet into his back pocket, “Shall we?” he directed the comment vaguely to the group, but his eyebrow arched upwards into his smooth forehead when he met Michael’s darkly dilated stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter coming soon.....lead up to smut!!!


	11. Looking for a screwdriver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the night out clubbing....lots of lovely alluring glances.....Michael Firth dances like a sexy god and Dom makes an early exit!!!

Several hours later the quartet had been noisily joined by Eddie and Augustin.   
Several more cocktails and beers had been downed and a few round of shots were underway.  
Michael was pleased to find a city in America which seemed to share the European attitude to alcohol….he was slightly bored with the aghast stares he generated when he dared ask for a second drink in LA!

He’d had a few very open discussions with Eddie, and with Doris: the former being so ridiculously flirty and full of double entendres as to render the group apoplectic; the latter more sombre and heartfelt upon discovering her attempts to become pregnant had failed, but had not damaged her relationship with her beloved Malik, whom she fondly announced on numerous occasions had promised to always live in sin with her!

Dom had become quiet and reflective….although he’d flashed dazzling gazes at Michael throughout the evening.   
Patrick had got to his very tipsy stage and seemed to be teetering on the verge of full on drunkenness for the past couple of hours.   
He was being his usual ‘handsy’ and flirty self with everyone, including Mr Firth!

“We should all dance!” Patrick suddenly announced as the strains of Erasure pumped out through the speakers.   
Augustin leapt down from his stool, wobbling against Michael’s firm wall of muscled body, “Oh my God! You’re an English God……please tell me you grew up in a house like Downton Abbey,” he drunkenly asked, causing a slightly tipsy laugh from Michael who was relaxed and loving his evening…..although part of his brain kept flicking back to the knowledge that this was what Kevin had fallen in love with too…..he could easily see why.

The group fumbled their way to the dancefloor part of the bar and lost themselves in the joy of shared rhythm, shouted lyrics and memories of all the previous encounters they’d had to that track.

Michael moved easily and slinkily, like a languorous extra from Magic Mike as the music and general atmosphere took over and his hips found a mesmeric rhythm.

Dom stepped back slightly as the song progressed and found himself mesmerised by Michael’s confident, arm outstretched, shoulder swirling movements.  
Shit if he looked and moved that well clothed what the fuck might he be like undressed?!

But Patrick was still casting him amorous glances……and Patrick deserved a fuck much more than he did……but it was Dom’s eyes that the sexy fucker kept finding on the dance floor….and singing along to the words of Respect was making his mouth look decidedly fuckable.

The song began to drift into Stevie Wonder’s Superstition, Dom took the opportunity of visiting the gent’s, Michael stated a need for another round of shots and ambled across to the bar.   
Patrick, Doris, Augustin and Eddie followed the sight of Michael Firth’s pert, muscular buttocks and expressed a communal sigh as he leant against the bar, resting one foot against the brass, base rail and his elbows on the counter.

“Jesus…he’s got a great ass….Malik would fucking love his ass!” Doris drooled.

Michael used the relative respite of ordering a round of tequila to contemplate his evening.  
Patrick was single! 

Shit….he needed to tell Kevin….didn’t he?

He took out his phone and fired off a message……to Tanya.

Patrick ventured off to the bathrooms and almost bumped into Dom who was talking on his phone, his buttocks resting against the sinks.

“Well, I’m gonna leave now, so I’ll be with you in about 20……OK?” and he puffed out his cheeks.  
Patrick pee’d whilst enquiring what was going on.

“We’ve got an issue with the water at the window….I need to pop in and see what it is so I can get onto it first thing…..I’m gonna have to split…..you OK? You gonna jump Michael?”  
Patrick guffawed as he flushed the urinal and crossed to wash his hands.

“Much as I would love to take a bite out of those glorious pecs of his….I feel his interest lies elsewhere……plus I have to work with him!”

Dom smirked, “Well…..Doris is determined to try to turn him…..I mean when doesn’t she try…and apparently she thinks Malik will totally go for it too! I’m gonna go say my goodbyes and I’ll call you tomorrow,” they embraced warmly and pressed kisses against each others’ cheeks; one baby soft, the other furrily soft with beard growth.

When Patrick rejoined the main room Dom was prising Doris from him….or rather Augustin and Michael were prising her off him, several hands making contact with several body parts…..some of which were not accidental!

Dom finally turned to Michael and held his hand out.  
“It was great meeting you, Michael. Maybe we’ll catch up again when you’re next in town…..as long as you take on Patrick’s shitty game and make it look cool and arty of course. Are you interested?” Dom asked.  
Michael’s first reaction was to drop to his knees and look up at the smouldering eyes and show him just how interested he was…..but he instead inhaled slowly and nodded.  
“I think I might be……..I think I’ll enjoy working with him……and I’ve felt very much at home here this evening…..I’m sorry you’ve got to slope off,” and he reached for his phone.

Dom pre-epted him and placed his hand over the Englishman’s and took the phone, quickly tapping in his number.  
“I’d like you to give me a call…..just for some fun….I don’t do strings,” Dom grinned.  
“Well, that sounds perfect. Take care,” and he clasped Dom’s hand in a masculine shake, encircling his other arm around his shoulders and drawing him into a brief but intense embrace.

Dom was able to slip his splayed hand around the firm back of Michael; was able to inhale the sharp, spicy scent of his cologne; was only just able to resist licking his ear……and definitely gave a growl as the English God’s hot breath ghosted across his neck.

And then he was gone.

The opening strains of a Britney Spears track started up and Augustin yelled loudly, dragging them all back to the dance floor.

After a further hour of dancing and laughter the day began to catch up on everyone, and stomachs began to protest the need for further calories.  
Doris suggested a 24hour diner that was in the direction of Patrick’s apartment, but in the opposite direction to Michael’s hotel.

“Do you know what guys? I’ve had a superb evening but this city is catching up on me, so I’m gonna bow out,” he began to warmly embrace the group one by one, groaning and making a strangled gurgle when Eddie wrapped him into a bear hug and picked him off the floor. “Patrick, I’ll be in touch, but I’m feeling like we could definitely work together.”

Patrick had gone passed his tipsy and blurry stage and had gathered a little further clarity on the fact that the stunningly handsome man now clutching his hand and shoulder should firmly stay out of bounds until their work relationship ended…..part of him was slightly annoyed that he’d sold the city and the company so well – if he’d turned him off it all Patrick might have been slightly closer to getting fucked by the Firth!

___

Dom found the chicken window closed up, spotlessly clean, but with Corey leaning against the doorway, casually smoking.  
He looked up and flicked his neck as he saw his boss approach.

“Is it that valve again?” Dom asked, responding to Corey’s nod with one of his own, “Well, at least I know how to fix it temporarily,” and he disappeared inside, followed by Corey after he tossed aside his cigarette butt.

“So, did I interrupt anything between you and that hot piece of English ass?” the younger man asked, cheekily waggling his eyebrows at his eye rolling boss.  
“No! You did not…..although, he really IS a hot piece of English ass….Jesus you should see the way he dances…..fuuuuck!”  
Dom’s eyes glazed over slightly as he sought out his screwdriver from the metal box of tools and assorted crap beside the inner door and stairs to his apartment.

Dom had discovered that the apartment above the chicken window was available about 8 months earlier, and after a cursory glance had decided to give up the lease on Patrick’s old apartment – it seemed weird and empty to be there on his own. So he’d took the plunge and bought the small, but charming apartment and had made it his own.

Dom slid on his back, knees bent and feet splayed on the tiled floor and applied the head of the screwdriver to the small valve beneath the sink, grunting a little with the exertion of twisting and tightening the fractionally loose connection.  
“Try it now,” he instructed and Corey turned the tap.   
A stream of water flooded out and he shouted a brief exclamation of success down to his boss.

“Perfect! We had hot water, but the cold was screwed….so everything got cleaned but we couldn’t use the ice machine,” he explained.  
The tap had gone faulty earlier in the month and Dom had used the same temporary fix, but it was clear that he’d have to get a plumber in for a more effective long term solution.  
They worked in tandem to restock up the ice – there was a stockpile in the ice box beneath the freezer, and usually one of the staff pumped through a large jug of cubes every 15 minutes or so when they were busy and tossed it into the supplies so that they rarely ran dry. However the lack of cold water for the last hour or so of the shift had meant that the stock was almost depleted.   
They therefore took it in turns to press the plastic holder beneath the water outlet to gather the clattering pieces of ice that churned out before passing it across and throwing it into the slowly refilling ice box.  
After about 40 minutes or so Dom was satisfied with the level of ice.   
He turned the jug to drain beside the sink and turned to Corey, wiping his hands on a cloth.  
“Corey, thanks for hanging around; you get off now. You in tomorrow?” he asked.  
“Yeah, I’ll see you around 6.30…..good night Dom….and,” he popped his head around the doorway and briefly ducked back, “ahem…..sweet dreams!” he smirked saucily and was gone, leaving Dom to shrug and toss aside the cloth in his hands.

A few seconds later he inhaled sharply and couldn’t prevent a sly smile breaking out across his face as the door into the kitchen was filled with the languidly sexy form of Michael Firth, his hands resting on the top of the doorframe, one knee bent to create a casually masculine hip drop and his lips curled into a wolfish smirk.  
"You're still here!" he stated, "That's good!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, to paraphrase Doris, next chapter is 'Yum, yum, yum....I smell man sex!'


	12. Looking for a one-nighter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, RATING CHANGE TO 'E'   
> You've waited a long time, so this is a nice, long chapter with lots of fun between Dom and Michael.  
> Nice, explicit fun!

“I thought you’d still be dancing the night away with Doris……I mean….did you drug her to let you go?” Dom asked, trying desperately to make his heart stop beating so wildly in his throat.  
Michael rocked slightly, his shoulders looking incredibly broad beneath the deep red of his sweater, the arms pushed casually back to reveal strong, dark haired forearms.

“I made my excuses and managed to escape…..although it was Eddie that seemed to have the most difficulty taking his hands off my arse!” he twinkled; the tip of his tongue travelling across his lower lip seductively.

Dom nodded back and took a couple of steps towards him, “Well….I can understand the appeal…….you’ve got a really great ass.” Dom paused and cast a slow, purposeful stare up and down Michael’s body, finding his darkly dilated eyes waiting for him as he found his face at last.

Neither was sure who moved first, but hands found necks and waists, and lips found lips, closely followed by tongues finding tongues.

Dom allowed himself to let go into one of his wide mouthed, delving kisses and gloried in the guttural growl emanating from Michael’s chest and the return of his passion with a strong, incredibly erotic kiss.

Michael allowed himself to melt into Dom’s hard, ruthless kiss. Their tongues almost battled as they angled each other’s neck so that they could gain the best access. Dom’s hand slid across Michael’s back, his fingers toying with the hem of his sweater.   
Michael’s hand had slid sensually along Dom’s torso, enjoying the firm, rippled musculature beneath his palm.

“Just fun…?” Dom hissed, hardly able to drag his mouth away from Michael’s persistent lips.  
He felt the man nod fractionally, and felt more than heard a breathy, “Uhum,” close to his jawline as Michael’s mouth began to wander and investigate the softly bristled cheeks and neck of the man whose palms were now pressing against the gloriously firm buttocks of the Englishman.

“No strings……I don’t do relation…..fuck,,,,ships,” Dom moaned, whimpering as Michael’s tongue found his ear, and his teeth nipped delicately, but exquisitely on the lobe.  
Again, Dom felt him nod, and as his hands splayed down across his back and shoulders he tugged the soft, merino wool upwards and moved back fractionally as Michael assisted him in peeling off the sweater, revealing his perfectly sculpted and darkly furred chest to Dom’s intense stare.

The item discarded, Dom resumed his manual investigation of each delectably firm muscle of Michael Firth’s torso and shoulders….and arms…..and abdomen.  
Michael dragged Dom’s body closer, resting himself against the stainless steel counter top, spreading his long limbs wide and nestling Dom’s hips between his thighs. Both gave a muffled gasp as their painful desire became evident to the other.  
Dom dropped his moustachioed lips to Michael’s small, rock hard nipples and teased them with his teeth, his hands swarming across the smooth, slightly damp skin of his back.

Michael’s head briefly dropped back on his neck at the delightful feeling of Dom’s warm, wet mouth against the firmness of his taut nipples and he could feel himself stiffen further beneath the restriction of denim.  
“I should lock the door,” Dom hissed as Michael’s firm palm crushed their hips together and he almost lost control.  
He pushed Michael away and somehow found the door, sliding the deadbolt across it and swiftly returning to the kitchen where Michael was running one splayed palm across his stubbled jaw, his washboard abs gloriously displayed above the low slung waist band of his tight jeans with their evident, and very promisingly sized bulge.

Dom stripped his black t shirt over his head in one movement and discarded it as he took the couple of strides needed to reach Michael’s grasping hands and welcoming mouth.  
Michael inhaled and smiled seductively at the sight of Dom’s silvery, lush chest hair and allowed his hands to tangle through it, tugging the man back into close contact with his body.

“How are we doing this?” Dom whispered seductively.  
In response, Michael tugged at Dom’s hair and pulled his teasing mouth away from his neck and licked into his mouth, moving his tongue away from the bare teethed desperation of the other man.  
“I’m guessing there are hygiene rules about getting spunk on your counter tops?” he hissed; his eyes teasing and intense in the almost brutal light of the kitchen.

Dom licked across his upper lip and twitched his mouth into a smirking smile, “Upstairs,” he stated, more calmly than he felt, and he huffed a frustrated grunt as Michael pushed him backwards, meaning their lower bodies were no longer rubbing against each other.  
“Lead the way,” the slender Englishman huskily murmured, swiping up his discarded sweater as he followed Dom’s panther like ascent of the staircase.   
He lent against the door jamb and created an alluring definition to his abdominal muscles as he slid his hand into his front trouser pocket to retrieve the key and unlock the door into his apartment.  
“After you,” he smiled, using his arm to gesture to Michael. 

Michael gave a cursory glance around the interior of the apartment – he made a small sound of approval in his chest – and abandoned his sweater on the back of the leather sofa.  
He rested his buttocks against it and reached to pull Dom back towards him, suddenly realising that the time their lips had been separated was too long.   
Their hands slid into position once more, Michael’s thumbs grazing against the softness of Dom’s cheek, Dom’s hand angled the other man’s neck to allow him deep, close access to him, and their mouths devoured each other, building back up the frenzied desire within them both.

Michael slid his hands down to the belt and fly of Dom’s trousers and Dom reciprocated, both groaning their need as hands delved beneath fabric and made contact with the heavenly firmness both were harbouring.

“You want me to suck you off? I’d really like to, you feel so fucking amazing,” Dom growled, allowing one hand to tease back up the trimmed chest hair whilst the other remained firmly gripping the impressively sized shaft of Michael Fucking Firth.

“I was kind of hoping you’d want to fuck me……but we could start with your suggestion if you like,” Michael drawled, biting down on Dom’s earlobe and earning a deep, blasphemous outpouring from the slack, moustache framed mouth.

“Then let’s do this in the bed,” Dom pulled the other man purposefully by the fingertips and led him through to a second room off the hallway.

Dom quickly toed off his shoes and used the time it took Michael to remove his own shoes and socks to arrange a selection of essential items on the small tray beside the bed – condoms, lube, tissues…..nothing from his ‘alternative’ drawer!

“Come here, and take this,” Michael hissed, pressing his palm against the front of his jeans and withdrawing his rigid cock from the tangle of denim and his boxers.

Dom gave a guttural moan as he looked across and realised that Michael Firth was in his bed, baring his cock and virtually begging him to fuck him……Patrick would be so pissed with him……but surely he of all people would understand the whole English thing!

Dom dropped down to his knees and eased Michael’s shoulders back, making the other man drop back onto his elbows, angling his stomach muscles obscenely and lifting his hips slightly so that his kneeling lover could drag the garments from his legs, leaving him nakedly lounging on the bed….wearing only a smile!

Dom took a few seconds to give his amazing body a quick scan; Jesus he was in amazing shape and he was exactly Dom’s type in terms of physique…..Ok he was a little older than the guys he usually hooked up with……but he was willing to make an exception.

Michael gazed down as Dom slid his hand around his considerable erection, inhaling deeply as he worked his grip up his length and carefully but purposefully coaxed back his foreskin and ghosted some of his own juices along the shaft.   
Dom whimpered slightly at the sight of his smooth, exposed head and bent to deliver a small, teasing flick of his tongue to the blood engorged skin.

“You really want this?” Dom asked, lifting his darkly dilated gaze to the piercing green eyes staring back at him.   
Michael’s teeth were gripping his lower lip and he managed to nod before his neck melted slightly with the sensation of Dom’s warm, wet mouth engulfing his cock.  
Dom sobbed and worked his lips down Michael’s ridged length.   
He eased back up, swirling his tongue along the raised vein beneath and removed his mouth fully, licking his lips and gazing adoringly at the leaking, exquisite cock he was being allowed such intimate access to.  
He slid his hands along Michael’s muscular thighs and eased them fractionally further apart before anchoring his grip at the base of his shaft and beginning to work his mouth up and down, spurred on by the rapturous groans and exclamations from the naked man on his bed.  
Michael hitched his foot up onto the mattress – Dom made a mental note of his flexibility – and slid his fingers through Dom’s thick, natural curls, tugging on his skull slightly in a deeply sensual and needy fashion.

Dom enjoyed giving head….it was one of his top level skills……and giving it to such a delectable cock was turning him on ridiculously.   
He was trying to rein himself in slightly, knowing that Michael had stated he wanted him to fuck him, but Jesus the guy was sexy, and his noisy, accented narration of what Dom’s mouth was doing to him was almost too good!

Michael could feel himself getting close - Dom was fucking excellent at blow jobs apparently – and he knew that following this he’d get what he really needed, which was the guys cock in his arse….hopefully hard, fast and pounding.

“Oh….God, Dom……I’m close,” he warned, causing Dom to cease his oral ministrations briefly.

“Any reason I shouldn’t just stay here?” he asked.

Michael smirked slightly, “I’m negative and clean….but if you’d rather you can finish me with your hand,” he stated, but his eyes were so adoringly fixated on Dom’s twitching mouth that the man on his knees sobbed in response and returned his mouth to the perfect sensation of Michael Firth’s delicious cock.

Dom hadn’t heard the range of English expletives that Michael issued as he shot his hot, creamy spunk into his mouth, but he guessed they were complimentary as he gripped onto his neck and pulsed his hips against Dom’s softly bearded jaw.

Pulling his way off Michael’s softening cock, Dom pressed onto his thighs to stand up.  
A decidedly glassy and blissed out pair of green eyes met his, “You’re definitely over dressed Mr…….actually I have no idea what your surname is!” Michael grinned.

Dom sniggered slightly as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, “Well…..since neither of us like strings why don’t we keep it that way?”

A nod of approval accompanied Michael raising himself on his elbows, then up to sit on the mattress.   
He focussed his attention on Dom’s flies and slowly, but deliberately worked them open, dragging the item down his thighs and sighing contentedly at the clear tenting in Dom’s cotton boxers.

They were pristine white cotton…..they reminded Michael of basic army issue – which was a ridiculous turn on for him and he barely supressed a throaty groan as Dom slipped them down and stood with his cock just inches away from Michael’s mouth.  
He was sturdy, decently sized and cut; as was the norm in America, and Michael was already considering how much work he’d require to be ready to take him…..but Jesus he wanted to take him….every, thick, rigid inch.

“How do you want me?” Michael asked as Dom removed the clothing from his legs fully and slipped off his socks too.

“However you prefer…..you’re the one taking it?” Dom murmured, brushing his mouth and tongue against the perfectly sculpted washboard stomach of Michael, “Jesus…..you sure as hell work out!”

Michael sniggered slightly…..gay hook ups were always an opportunity to compare work out schedules and dietary plans in his experience!

“How about you get working out instead,” he stated, twisting his torso and easing onto his knees, splaying his deliciously tight buttocks for Dom’s gaze and reaching across for the bottle of lube to make his requirements clear.

Dom lowered his head and gave a tortuously slow and purposeful lick along the seam of Michael’s ass, parting his cheeks and delving his tongue down to toy with the silky, soft skin of his sack and gripping onto Michael’s hips as the man arched back into the sensation and hissed his breath in over his teeth.

“You like that?” Dom growled, knowing full well that the answer would be an affirmative.  
Michael buried his face into the soft duvet and grunted a “Fuck, yes……but it’s your turn now.”

Dom smiled as he repeated his focussed exploration of Michael Firth’s ass…..he did intend to have his ‘turn’, but he wanted the man to be a sobbing and desperate heap before he finally fucked him through the mattress.

“My turn means my choice….and my pace….and my rules,” Dom murmured before delving his tongue back between the splayed cheeks of Michael’s arse and rimming the perfectly puckered hole until the recipient was a leaking, moaning mess.

“Fuck…..Dom……please, I need……you know what I need……please,” Michael finally panted and stifled his delight as he heard Dom flick the plastic bottle of lube open.  
Dom covered the fingers of his right hand in the silky gel and distributed it liberally up and down the seam of his splayed lover.   
He smiled and noticed his own rigid cock twitching as the puckered entrance of Michael relaxed under his gentle but efficient touch.

Michael eased back into the sensation of Dom’s fingers and sighed, recognising he was in the hands of a definite pro and already looking forward to the experience ahead of him.  
Dom adjusted his position so that his head was closer to Michael’s, his own erection pressing against the man below him’s hip and his mouth seeking out the warm spiciness of his neck.  
He pressed his middle digit against Michael’s entrance and sucked on the join of his neck and shoulders as he pressed it inside to his knuckle. 

He enjoyed the delighted gasp and erotic, almost feminine whimper from the man beneath him and wasted no time in stroking the rapidly relaxing, hot channel.   
“Fuuuuck, that’s good,” Michael mumbled, twisting his neck towards Dom and reaching his jaw forward to welcome Dom’s messy but delicious mouth against his own.  
They kissed with a frenzied passion, Dom matched the movement of his probing finger to the movement of Michael’s tongue thrusting and sliding against his own.

Dom pulled his face back fractionally and gazed intently into the green swirling pools of Michael’s.   
He eased his finger back slightly and pressed a second inside Michael’s hole, moving them fast and deep, twisting them to locate a hidden spot that made the Englishman call him a “Cunt of a fucking twat” which only sought to spur on his taunting but purposeful ministrations.

Dom could feel his own cock straining and leaking against the firm skin of Michael and was now looking forward to sliding himself between the gorgeously firm buttocks that were bucking backwards into his hand and wrist.

“Let me get a condom on,” Dom snarled, reaching across to the cabinet whilst maintaining the pressure of his digits inside Michael’s perfectly prepared hole. “I just need to leave you for a few seconds…..don’t panic.”

Michael moaned and pouted causing Dom to sharply inhale…..fuuuck, he was fucking gorgeous…….this was just fun though…..no strings fun.

He rapidly and efficiently covered himself with the stretched latex and slathered on more of the lube before deftly grasping Michael around his hips and pulling him back towards his cock which he’d notched inside his perfect, pink opening.  
“Oh, God Dom….now, please,” Michael begged, arching his back and rippling his shoulder muscles as he stretched to get purchase on the headboard and brace himself to take Dom’s think, luscious length.

Dom didn’t waste any time, he was now desperate to cum and the sight of Michael’s eagerness was like electricity shooting through him.   
He pushed forwards, groaning his delight at the tight, hotness of Michael around him, accepting his cock and welcoming him fully inside him.

When he could feel the soft, downiness of Michael’s arse cheeks against his hips Dom paused.  
He leaned back slightly and looked down, withdrawing and watching intently as he pushed back inside Michael Firth’s ass, releasing a stuttering gasp.

Fuck!!!!   
He was fucking Michael Firth’s ass…..and it was fucking fabulous!!!!!!

Michael had resorted to a whispering stream of rambled narration, Dom could make out the odd phrase, ‘feels so fucking good’, ‘amazing’, ‘give me more,’ ‘oh Jesus, Dom’…and each muttered exclamation was turning Dom on more and more, winding him up higher and driving him closer to cuming.

“You want it on you….or in you?” Dom growled, driving his hips in a relentless rhythm and meeting the delighted thrusts of Michael’s hips back against him.  
The sight of Michael gripping his ornate, cast iron headboard and almost barking with teeth gritted delight was an amazingly erotic onslaught to the senses and Dom couldn’t last long….and there was no way he could slow himself down now.

Michael was about as close to heaven as was possible.   
Dom’s mouth around him sucking him off had been glorious, but the sensation of his hard, thick cock pounding relentlessly in and out of his backside was mesmeric. His hands were firm and slightly threatening on his hips……Michael liked that…..he liked taking a decent length….and he loved it when the guy giving it to him was experienced and taking delight in his own pleasure.

He squeezed his hands around the metal scrollwork headboard and snarled his response to Dom’s panted question, “You are staying where you are…..I want to milk every drop from your fucking…….oh God……perfect……..fuck…….cock!”

Dom maintained his vigorous pace and reached one hand round to find Michael’s resurrected erection. Taking it firmly in his grip he matched his snapping hips to the tugs along the Englishman’s length and with a few more deep thrusts Dom could feel himself swelling and cuming.

Michael felt the moment and sobbed, dropping his head forwards as Dom fell slightly onto him, latching his teeth and mouth against the ridge of muscle at the top of Michael’s back, just below his neckline.   
This, together with the intense feeling of Dom’s cock pulsing his release inside him stimulated his second orgasmic release, and Dom coaxed every spurting ribbon from him with gentle, whispered endearments about how good he felt, how perfect it had been, how amazing Michael was.

Satiated and breathless Dom pulled out and dealt with the condom as Michael collapsed sideways, trying not to get any more of his spunk on Dom’s covers.

“Well! That was certainly the full San Francisco experience I was looking for!” Michael grinned broadly.

He had a very beautiful smile Dom noticed……shit….don’t, this is just fun….a hook up……a one nighter…..nothing more……no strings!

But, his smile is completely beautiful…..and his body is fucking heaven!

“Is it OK if I wait a bit before I take a shower and….leave,” Michael asked.  
He was feeling decidedly glum about the prospect of getting out of this really, incredibly comfortable bed….and at the idea of walking away from possibly the best sex he’d ever experienced……but shit, this was just a no strings hook up…..that was what they both did….what they both wanted…..right?

Dom shrugged slightly as he settled back against the pillows, one hand hooked under his head to raise it slightly and give him a better view of the gorgeous man lying blissed out beside him.  
“No rush,” he smiled.

God he had a gorgeous smile….and stunning eyes….fuuuck, Michael you’re not supposed to fall for him….he’s a one night thing…..nothing more.

“That, by the way, was great” Michael breathed, toying his fingers against Dom’s darkly haired thigh.

“Uuuhum….I can certainly see the Englishman appeal,” Dom almost purred, rolling more comfortably onto his side, facing Michael who was frowning in a somewhat amused manner.

“I wasn’t aware that we had one…..not specifically…..or is the whole foreskin thing; I must admit it freaked the fuck out of me when I first started hooking up over here…..why do none of you have one?” he asked, glancing down at Dom’s relaxed, prick with its exposed head.

“Why do none of you guys not? I mean I remember Patrick being completely floored by Kevin’s….oh, sorry…..Patrick used to date an English guy called Kevin and he wasn’t cut,” he explained.

Michael sighed and exhaled deeply before he replied, still slightly ‘fuck dazed’, “I know…and Kevin’s cock is quite frankly magnificent!” he chuckled.

Dom’s eyes sprang wide, “What? How the fuck do you know about Kevin? Did Patrick tell you at the meeting?”

Michael furrowed his brow and rolled onto his back, covering his face with his splayed hand, “Oh shit! This is why I am supposed to get up and leave straight afterwards to avoid embarrassing post coital bed talk!”

Dom pressed himself up onto his elbow and focussed his gaze on Michael’s charmingly perturbed expression.

“Why are you embarrassed? If Patrick told you about Kevin, that’s cool….I guess he must have felt comfortable with you and of course the whole English accent thing…..I mean it does it for me….especially those amazing curse words you were kind of sexily murmuring.”

Michael gave Dom a sexy side-ways glance, “Patrick didn’t tell me about Kevin…..and my accent is nothing like his….and I know that because I know Kevin…and I knew about Kevin and Patrick before I came here for this meeting!”

“FUCK!” Dom sat up and turned to stare intently at Michael, angling his body slightly above the slender Englishman’s. His knuckles had unconsciously found Michael’s abdomen and were lightly grazing across the rippled muscles. “You mean, you KNOW Kevin Matheson?”

“Well, I don’t know him in the biblical sense…..I mean I’ve repeatedly tried….but no. He’s one of my neighbours…..but I know all about Patrick,” he explained, absently covering Dom’s hand with his own and interlacing his fingers with Dom’s.

“So you know Jon too?” Dom asked, unable to stop himself dragging his nose against Michael’s bristled chin and pressing a soft kiss against the slender, dusky lips waiting there.  
Michael returned the kiss before shaking his head, “No, they broke up way before I knew Kevin….God, Jon left him before he got to bloody Britain….I think he only made it to Chicago,” Dom met his slightly befuddled expression, urging him on, “Patrick wanted Kevin to be honest, so he could trust him…..he took it pretty seriously and when Jon asked if he was over Patrick…..well, he told the truth. Cue for Jon to get off the plane and Kevin to turn into a fucking monk….or rather a non-fucking monk!”

It was Michael’s turn to nuzzle into Dom’s neck, pushing him back onto the pillows and sliding his palm across the now familiar width and firmness of his waist.  
Dom sighed and melted slightly into Michael’s caresses, “So Kevin isn’t with Jon?”

Michael shook his head, “No! Not for ages. He’s got Frankie now.”

Dom nodded, “And he knew you were coming to meet with Patrick? Does Patrick know you know Kevin?”

“NO! And let’s agree to keep it that way please…..I’ve somehow got to find a way of telling Kevin that Patrick isn’t with Ritchie anymore…….he thinks he is….to be fair we both did when I agreed to all of this,” Michael explained, relaxing himself against Dom’s wonderfully softly furred bulk beside him.

“Kevin thought Patrick was still with Ritchie? And this Frankie?…..is it serious between him and Kevin? Is that why he won’t fuck you?” Dom asked, grinning at the final statement and finding his hands travelling southwards and pressing along Michael’s lower belly, groaning at the realisation that the Englishman’s cock was already semi erect.

Michael chuckled slightly – partly at the sensation of Dom’s persistently wandering and fidgety hands seeking out his intimate parts, and partly at the thought that Dom clearly assumed Frankie was ‘human’, “Kevin is completely in love with Frankie….they are totally inseparable……but I don’t think I’d admit to taking second place to a dog!” he stated, his eyes twinkling as Dom realised his error and inhaled slowly. “Kevin won’t fuck me because he won’t fuck anyone…..because we’re not Patrick Murray!”

Both men had settled themselves around each other on the bed, Dom’s leg was hooked under the duvet and the feeling of Michael’s firm, warm body beside him felt amazingly good….far too good…..not hook up good.  
SHIT!

As if reading his mind Michael squirmed fractionally and pressed several kisses against Dom’s forearm across his chest, “I should get up and shower…..and go, I suppose,” he sighed, making no moves to do either.  
Dom frowned slightly and found himself inhaling Michael’s neck, “We did say this was just fun…..so…..yeah, I guess you should.”  
Michael reluctantly eased himself up from Dom’s arms and the cloud-soft duvet cover.   
He strode confidently across to the shower room and cast a languidly sexy glance over his shoulder as he gathered up his underwear, jeans and sweater, “I’m glad Patrick knows you,” he smiled….with no smirk; no guile; no agenda….just an open, crinkle eyed, honest smile of contentedness.

“I’m kinda glad he knows YOU….and that you decided to come back for more chicken!” and he waggled his eyebrows above his twinkling, blue-eyed gaze.  
Michael laughed, “Is that a specific SF euphemism? I’m popping out for some chicken?” and he disappeared into the other room.   
Dom heard the shower being turned on and the toilet being flushed and finally heard the clear sound of a body sluicing water across itself.

He lay back against the pillows contemplating the influx of new information he’d garnered.  
So Kevin wasn’t with Jon.  
And Kevin had thought Patrick had moved back to SF with Ritchie.  
And Kevin’s new love was a dog.  
And he clearly hadn’t got over Patrick….  
…..and he knew that Patrick truly hadn’t really ever got over Kevin.  
And Michael Firth was an excellent fuck….and he was dangerously easy to be with……and to almost ask to stay….  
….shit……he was Lyn easy…..shit……NO!   
He was heading back to LA, to where he lived, tomorrow…..this was just a one night thing…..just fun….nothing more.

Beneath the hot water Michael considered the information he was now party to….what the hell should he tell Kevin now?   
It had been difficult enough to try and work out whether to tell him about Patrick no longer being with Ritchie….but should he tell him about the other stuff? About Patrick believing he was still with Jon?  
However, his thoughts drifted somewhat and what he found himself thinking more about was the blissful memory of Dom’s hands on him; his lips covering his; his hands gripping his hips and fucking him hard and perfectly….and how easy it had been to curl up beside him…..how comfortable he’d felt just lying beside him. Michael NEVER felt that….he was usually up and out within minutes….he NEVER loitered….he’d never wanted to, until tonight.   
It had felt perfectly natural to share post coital kisses with Dom, and it had felt almost weird to move out of his warm embrace to shower.  
Shit! …..this was just sex…..just a hook up….it was what he did….it was what Dom did….but tonight he wouldn’t have minded staying!

FUCK!   
Get a grip.   
Michael filled his mouth with shower water and squirted it whale-like before turning off the faucet and reaching for one of the neatly folded pale grey towels on a shelf just outside the shower cubicle. He dried himself off, rubbing at his hair vigorously to try to erase any thoughts of crawling straight back into bed with the deliciously sexy man who presumably was still naked in the next room.

Instead he dragged his clothes back on and used his fingers to coax his closely cropped hair into it’s usual style before he stashed the used towel in the laundry bin and wandered back into the bedroom.

Dom was no longer in the bed, and Michael discovered him in the kitchen area, wearing a pair of knee length shorts, rummaging in the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of coconut water.  
He glanced up, appreciatively at the sight of Michael Firth in his apartment….albeit part of him had secretly hoped he’d come sauntering out in a towel and ask if he could stay……but NO! This was just fun!

“You want some before you head off?” he offered the bottle and reached for a further glass.  
Michael gestured that he’d pass – although he stifled a groan at the recognition that Dom drank his own preferred brand of his favourite beverage!

“I should find my hotel,” he maintained a slight distance between them, but his eyes acted like a magnet to Dom, and the native of the city put down the glass he’d filled and stepped towards him, covering his thrill when Michael’s large, splayed palm slid across his back and pulled him close.

Michael’s clothes smelled of bars, and cologne, and masculine sweat……and heaven.  
Every fibre of Dom’s body sent out pheromones urging the Englishman to stay, but he knew that a one nighter was all they’d agreed to.

“This was…..really good,” Dom murmured, resting his forehead against Michael’s.  
Michael smiled back at him, “It certainly was…..maybe we can do it again if Patrick decided to let me work on his new game?” he ventured….that wasn’t too tying!

Dom’s mouth quirked into a small smile, “Well, I hope Patrick decides to go with you….because I’d like to do that again when you’re next in town….unless you get a better offer of course,” he added.  
“That would have to be one hell of a better offer,” Michael whispered, tilting Dom’s chin up and finding his mouth with his own.  
They kissed for a long, blissfully shameless time.

It was Michael who pulled away first, stroking his hand through Dom’s wayward curls and shaking his head fractionally as he sighed, “I’ll see you around Mr Whatever Your Last Name is.”  
Dom sniggered and allowed his arm and fingers to stretch until they were no longer in contact with Mr Firth’s.  
“You know where your hotel is from here?” he asked, receiving a sheepish nod in response, followed by a wink as Michael turned and made his way down the narrow staircase.

Dom heard the bolt on then outer door being slid and he followed in order to close it after him.

Michael strode along the still busy sidewalks in the direction of his hotel.   
He was suddenly sleepy, and part of him wanted to relive some of the visual images he had of his evening with Dom.

Dom returned with his glass of coconut water to the bed which still smelled of Michael, and he found himself nestling into ‘his side’ as he scrolled down his phone.   
He had several messages, including one from Doris, bluntly asking:   
‘OK, how much do you want to fuck the Firth?’

He giggled boyishly as he tapped out a reply:  
‘D, he definitely gets a 10/10!....and his cock is everything you’d want it to be….plus an inch!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is quite Dom and Michael heavy....and this was billed as a Kevin and Patrick fic....but bear with me.....Dom and Michael are central to Kevin and Patrick getting back together.  
> I did warn you that I am a slow-burn gal......but the plan is all worked out......


	13. Looking for a playable Kevin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, after the night out they sort of catch each other up - Dom and Patrick talk, Tanya and Michael talk and Kevin and Michael talk......and Dom and Michael might just get a bit flirty.....even though they are desperately trying to maintain the veil of 'no strings / not serious' over their whole fuck fest!

The following morning:

Patrick made his way to the MDG office with only the merest hint of a hangover, which instantly vanished upon receiving an email from Michael Firth stating his clear intent to work on the artwork for the game, and giving the details of his legal team in order to organise a contract for his services.  
This was a great break for Patrick in establishing himself centrally to MDG.  
Plus it meant further meetings with the delectably sexy Mr Firth.

Doris winced herself awake was Malik set off, suited and booted for his city hall job.   
He left a cup of coffee and a note with a kiss beside her side of the bed. She had a later shift at the hospital and could spend most of the day sobering up.   
The scent of the hot coffee roused her and she swiped her hair off her face with one hand, reaching for her glasses and phone with the other. The sight of Dom’s response to her text message instantly cleared her head and she gave a squeal as she tapped out further queries.

Augustin and Eddie briefly lifted their heads from their pillows at around 8am; they then instantly covered their faces and only seriously considered getting out of bed and getting their shit together at around 11am!

Michael woke up feeling a deliciously familiar tingle in his backside, and upon showering again noticed several rather telling and delightfully memorable marks around his neck, shoulders and hips.  
His phone went slightly crazy as he flicked it back on. He’d silenced it in order to get some sleep, but had already sent an email off to Patrick at MDG to make it clear that he was definitely interested in working on the new game.   
Regardless of his pleasing encounter with Dom he was actually really interested in the concept that he’d discussed with Mr Murray the day before.   
His artistic talents would be used not only in the design for the packaging, but also in the actual gameplay features and overall colour and style scheme….he’d never done that; it would be a new challenge.  
As he dressed in jeans and a polo shirt he considered his options for the day.   
He was really enjoying the whole SF vibe…..he had a whole day and an evening to occupy himself…..so what did he want to do with his time?  
His first and most pleasurable thought was to go and knock on Dom’s door and spend it being fucked very thoroughly by the man……but that was just a one night hook up…..he wouldn’t want him turning up again!

Dom woke up and rolled himself into the pillows which stirred his senses….he inhaled pure Eau de Michael Firth and stifled his desire to squeal like an excited girl!   
He allowed his thoughts to meander back through a series of delectable still images from the previous evening; Michael Firth gripping his headboard; his chiselled face begging for more; his gorgeous smile peering back at him from the pillow…..SHIT!   
That wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about!   
It had been a one night hook up….he was SUPPOSED to think about the sex; the fucking; the glorious body….but he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the cuddling; the post coital, easy chat.   
He got up and went through to shower; but again his thoughts drifted back to the idea that Michael had been the last person to use it…..his towel was right there on top of the laundry bin…..fuck!   
He stroked it.   
FUCK!!!!   
He was like a frigging teenager!   
Standing beneath the deluge of water he considered his plans for the day…..he should tell Patrick of the events…..he deserved to know just in case it came up in further discussions with him over the job.   
He should probably check his phone and see what filthy questions Doris was asking given his text message in the early hours. However, part of him just wondered what time Michael was planning on leaving and heading back to LA, and whether he could come up with a realistic reason to just ‘bump into him’ near his hotel…..or even message him.  
He had nothing in terms of a plan…..except a fucking boner in the shower thinking about him!  
He dealt with it beneath the shower, the water washing away his ribbons of creamy release and drowning out his shout of ‘Fuck…… Michael’ when he came.  
Shit!  
He needed to occupy himself!

Both Michael and Dom went out for breakfast; Dom to the usual diner he frequented close to the window. He opted for a huge omelette made with extra whites, plus coffee and orange juice.  
Michael found a place at the recommendation of one of the housekeeping staff (he always found it better to ask local staff rather than the concierge as they invariably just suggested high price, ‘international food’ establishments) he was therefore happily seated in a busy traditional diner where he chose coffee, eggs, bacon, syrup and pancakes…..he had a very healthy appetite this morning!  
He was slightly aware that Dom had given him his number, but he’d not reciprocated….he felt like he should at least give him the option of communicating with him….even if only to ignore it and make it clear that he didn’t wish to.   
This was Michael’s logic as he tapped out a brief message :  
‘Hey, once again, last night was great. Michael’

He smiled warmly at the waitress who topped up his coffee and brought over the enormous plate of food for him.   
After a few mouthfuls of frankly amazing food, he noticed an incoming message from an unknown number and dabbed at his lips with his napkin as he stifled the fluttering in his chest at the thought that it could be from Dom.

Dom had been engaged in a brief phone call to Doris which satisfied enough of her need for details and maintained Dom’s desire to keep some things private regarding Mr Firth’s prowess in bed.   
Doris had of course asked whether he liked him….and Dom had honestly responded – of course he did, but they’d agreed to no strings fun.   
Doris read into that exactly what she was meant to – in other words ‘Yeah, I really think I could like him, but he is leaving the city and I’m not doing all that….but I like him a lot.’  
After so many years as friends they knew each other better than anyone else did, and also knew the heart felt secrets that tormented and tortured each other.   
Doris knew for example that Dom had fallen completely for Lyn, and that making the decision to end things had ripped his heart out.   
He’d thrown himself into his work, which had been great and a huge positive in his life….but she loved Dom, and he deserved his own true love.   
She’d found Malik, and although the whole baby, happily ever after thing hadn’t worked out, she was as happy and satisfied with a relationship as she knew she could be.   
Dom was the love of her life; and any other guy had to try to compare….Malik was as close as she could get….and he knew that, and she loved him all the more for it.

Her final line had been so typically Doris:  
“Call him! Let him know you could go another round on the Firth fuck train when he’s next in town…..and if he turns you down clearly you’ve lost your mojo…..and that just ain’t happenin’ Dom….’cos if you lose yours, then I’ll be next….and that ain’t happenin! OK?”

Dom had agreed and looked at his phone….he’d given Michael his number but he didn’t have a way to contact him…..maybe Patrick would give him his number?   
No! That would be really unprofessional!  
So when his phone flashed up with an incoming message from Michael F he almost choked on his omelette!  
It was a perfectly composed, simple but beautiful message.   
Dom imagined the dark, chiselled features of Michael composing it.   
He wondered where he’d been when he tapped it out….had he been in bed?   
Naked?   
Horny and hard thinking about him?   
Hmmm…..it was a nicely distracting image as he thought about composing a reply.  
It had to be non-committal, non-stringy….but after the night they’d shared he did deserve a reply.  
He thought about Doris’ suggestion……possibly a little too on the nose if he used it verbatim, but the concept was sound, so he typed out a short response and took a quick picture of his enormous breakfast plate.

Michael stilled his breathing, but couldn’t prevent the curl lipped smile that broke out across his face when he saw a reply to his original message pop onto his screen. The smile broke into a wide grin when he saw the image of an enormous plate of food that matched his own along with the text :  
‘You may be responsible for my increased appetite! D

On a whim, and because he was feeling ridiculously teenage and ‘cute’ Michael took a snap of his own massive breakfast, then deleted the image and replaced it with a selfie showing his own cheesy, arch browed grin behind the same heaped up pile of food.   
He sent it on to Dom with a cheeky, “Snap! You’re bad for my waistline! M” he also added a wink emoji and pressed send before swearing and mentally calling himself a horny wanker and tucking into more high calorie fuel. 

He had also noticed a message from Tanya – he recalled messaging her last night when he had been torn between what to do about the news that Patrick was no longer with Ritchie….fuck….since then he’d gathered about half a dozen more pieces of information he needed advice on!

Tanya’s advice based on the initial information was that he should wait until he got back and that yes, Kevin should know…..her suggestion was to use the information to explain Patrick’s decision to move back to San Francisco, and for him to state it quite openly; tell Kevin of his intention to take the job with MDG; and then allow Kevin to compartmentalise the information.   
Her suggestion had been to tell him when he was out on the beach walking Frankie, and then go home….and expect him to either phone or go round to ask additional questions.  
Tanya knew Kevin.  
He would always just nod and listen…..but then his brain would run riot with the information and he’d feel the need to question every possible element in a view to how he could slot it into his life. 

Michael sent the new additional information onto Tanya and asked whether he should just slam the whole lot on him in one go?

His gut feeling was that Kevin would want to know anything that Michael had found out about the people he once knew so well in the city.   
It would then be up to him to decide how the information affected him……although he was expecting quite a grilling upon his return to LA……and the information regarding being fucked by Dom might grant him a little bit of side track material for if Kevin started getting too gloomy!

Dom rubbed his palms and grinned broadly as a response came back to his photo message…..so he was being cheeky?....and that photo was gorgeous….and Dom couldn’t stop himself zooming in slightly on the dark, smiling face of Michael Firth that he now had on his phone…..where he could look at it at his leisure!  
On an impulse Dom returned the message with his own :  
‘If you’re worried about those washboard abs of yours you do realise that certain parts of this city are kind of known for their steam rooms! Ideal for sweating off a few pounds!”

Michael expected a response from Tanya, but it was Dom’s message that popped up first.   
He was obviously aware of the reputation of steam rooms in SF….he’d quite fancied giving them a try…..maybe Dom would be an ideal tour guide?   
And surely that could be a way of establishing their perfectly non-strings relationship?!  
He fired off a reply quickly, and clicked on Tanya’s reply which was brief but valuable: ‘Tell him all of it. He needs to know. Don’t hide things from him. He’s a big boy. T x’

Dom’s eyebrows almost blended into his scalp when he saw Michael’s most recent message: ‘Fancy being my tour guide? Bet you know the best ones!’  
FUCK!!!!  
But if Michael wanted to go to a steam room, presumably he wanted to hook up with someone new….part of Dom felt deflated, but another part of him was loving the idea of firstly, seeing Michael Firth’s buff body covered in sweat (again!) and secondly, showing him how completely comfortable he was with the idea of his ‘hook up, fuck buddy’ hooking up and fucking another, random guy….thus establishing their no-strings, non-serious relationship!  
Without giving it too much considered thought past this Dom fired off a reply,  
‘You’re on! Come by the window around 11am and we can take it from there! D.’

This wasn’t a date…..it was just a friendly gay man to gay man tour guide!  
_____

Kevin had spent the previous day mulling and over thinking the whole idea of how he felt about Michael working with Patrick.

Part of him was desperately wanting to see it all as irrelevant to him – Michael would not be asking him to get involved; the work was based miles away in San Francisco and he knew that Patrick still worked in the tech industry and gaming….if he’d wanted to ensure he avoided him for the rest of his life all he needed to do was leave the business himself!

However, the more niggling and frustrating part of him almost wanted more details!   
Michael had said he looked good…..that he was beautiful…and Michael had stuck to his request of not getting pissed and sending him pictures…..but he kind of wanted to see him.

Shit!   
This was fucked up!  
He wanted to move on….didn’t he?

Actually no….he didn’t. 

He hadn’t wanted to move on with his life as it was since that final meeting with Patrick in the coffee house after his brief return to the city for Eddy and Augustin’s wedding.  
What he wanted really was the life he’d always wanted with Patrick….the life he’d visualised and that had given him the courage to leave Jon the first time.  
But Patrick had a new life that didn’t include him….and no matter how bad that made him feel, he truly did want Patrick Murray to be happy, and successful…..and to still be beautiful.  
The lack of messages and news from Michael was now tugging on his emotions.  
Should he just bite the bullet and call him?  
He settled for taking Frankie for a walk and knocking on Tanya’s door with pastries.  
_____

Patrick received a call from Dom at around 10am:  
P: Hey! Is your water issue solved?

D : It was the loose valve connection again; I did a temporary fix last night, got a plumber calling by tomorrow, so, yeah…..crisis averted. How was the rest of your evening?

P : Well, I got a firm acceptance from the delectable Mr Firth…..so clearly he wasn’t too put off by the combination of Augustin’s potty mouth and Eddy’s wandering hands. You didn’t miss much more from him….he sloped off when we went for food….must be how he keeps that stomach of his so toned!

D : ……yeah, well……as it turns out he came by the window…..and…

P: Dom!? Did you get up close and very personal with Michael Firth?

D : [smirking and sniggering lightly into the phone] Very close….and incredibly personal…..and very satisfactory too. 

P : Oh my GOD! Dom! Fuck! I want to know EVERYTHING….but I can’t because I have to work with him….oh GOD! This is unbearable! Is he….I mean…..I take it you got to see beneath the James Bond exterior?

D : Oh yeah! He is very, very buff…..really hot…..and he wants to check out a steam room today….so……

P: You’re taking him to a steam room?!? FUCK! Dom…….shit…..I have to work with this guy!

D : Don’t worry…..we agreed on no strings, non-serious….and I am guessing he is planning to hook up with a nice, random stranger at the steam room…..he’s just a gay man, experiencing all that San Francisco has to offer….and I’m going with him!

P: Oh God, Dom….how the fuck am I supposed to get any work done for the rest of the day knowing that Michael Firth’s sexy as fuck, buff body is sweating and naked in a steam room.

D : I’d open the invitation up to you but maybe that might cross some form of professional boundary now that he’s agreed to work with you!

P: [pouting and grimacing] I know….it’s so unfair. Is his cock gorgeous? No! No, don’t tell me….in fact yeah, tell me, but no details on size or….oh fuck I bet he isn’t cut is he?

D:[laughing] What’s it to be? Details or no details? 

P: Just…..give his cock a score……out of 10.

D : Oh it’s a definite 10…….I mean I didn’t measure it….but definitely not less than an 8!

P: Oh god……and…..did you suck him off? [whispering]

D : I’m not answering that……but we had a great time!

P; Shit! Well…..have fun at the steam room….some of us have to work!

D : Hey…I’ll be working! I’ll be working hard not to get a boner when I get another view of Michael Firth semi naked! Talk later!

Patrick wrinkled his nose as he set down his phone and regarded the screen of his computer where he was currently trying to reconfigure the make up of one of the characters for the new game to make it ressemble a buff, fair haired, stubble bearded, gloriously pec’d male.

Shit….he was trying to recreate Kevin as a playable character!


	14. Looking in the steam room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So.....a threesome in the steam room seemed like the next logical step!  
> Hope that meets with approval!  
> I really do promise that Patrick and Kevin ARE the central elements of this fic....honest they are....but writing Dom and Michael fucking is just so much fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so after a small amount of Google research I have decided to make up my own rules and ideas about what should go on in a San Francisco all male steam room!  
> Indulge me won't you!?!

At just after 11am Michael strode up to the chicken window, which was still closed for business, but he could hear movement inside and rapped his knuckles against the glass, leaning casually against the small ledge; his eyes shaded in the same aviator glasses as on the previous day, and wearing the jeans and polo shirt he’d put on earlier.  
One of Dom’s prep staff, Joy, slid back the glass hatch and flashed a dazzling smile at the swarthy face greeting her.

“Hi, Dom mentioned he was expecting a friend…he’s on his way,” she closed over the hatch after he nodded and strode across to the parklet where he folded himself into the wooden seating and took out his phone.

He had messages from Tanya, Patrick …..and one from Kevin.  
He opened Kevin’s:  
‘Hope everything is going well in SF. When you get back call me; I have another possible use for your artistic talents! K’

He wanted to reply, but not with any specifics, so he firmed off a quick response :  
‘The nightlife here is everything you promised….and more! I’m back tomorrow lunchtime, I’ll drop by. M’

He’d just pressed send when Dom’s familiar silhouette veered into view through the door and a few seconds later he was smiling into the twinkling, sexy, blue-eyed gaze of Dom.

Dom had to take a second to control his breathing – he was certain that without the thrumming bustle of the city in the background his heartbeat would have been loud enough to be heard!  
Oh my god, Michael was completely gorgeous!

Michael sucked in his breath as he slid his phone back into his jeans pocket and stood up.   
Oh my god, Dom was fucking stunning!

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Dom grinned as casually as he could.  
Michael twitched his neck in an amused manner, “Definitely! Are the steam rooms of San Francisco ready for ME?” he smirked, waggling his eyebrows in a style reminiscent of James Bond.

Dom indicated the direction they should stroll in and they made easy conversation with Dom pointing out several ‘legendary’ SF milestones en route; including Bud’s flower shop and a couple of bars.  
They discussed Michael’s work and the varied avenues his artistic talents took him, and his preferred styles.   
They talked about Dom’s business and his plans; which included updating his signage and menus.  
Quite naturally Michael’s interest was piqued and he asked casually whether Dom had anything in mind and whether he could offer his expertise.

“MDG may well be able to factor in Michael Firth’s rates on a consultancy basis, but I hadn’t actually set aside an enormous budget!” Dom grinned.   
He found it so easy to talk to this guy….stuff that he usually didn’t discuss with his friends, relating to business and profits and money…..stuff that in the past he had chatted with to Lyn!

Michael followed him as they turned into a traditional looking building which had the humid and slightly stale air associated with persistent dampness.   
Dom approached the small window style counter and stated his requirements for 2 and fished out his wallet from his back pocket, flashing a small, plastic membership card.  
Michael jumped on the opportunity, “I tell you what, if you pay for the steam room experience and we’ll call my consultancy fees quits!”  
Dom snorted with laughter, “Are you serious? This costs, like twelve bucks!”  
“Consider it mate’s rates!” the Englishman replied, following a head shaking Dom through a warren of corridors and towards a set of lockers.

Highly aware that they were again about to get naked infront of each other, but under significantly less private and intimate circumstances, Dom affected a tone of ‘educator’ as he explained, “OK! So…..the basic assumption is that you’re here to look, and possibly to get involved….but there are no real expectations….so if you just want to have a steam surrounded by other gay men you can do that.”

Michael bit his lip slightly – he had a brief visual image of this whole ‘teacher and pupil’ thing that Dom had started playing out in a very different manner…..with Dom’s headboard and Michael’s belt forming a significant part of the scenario!

“Fine,” he managed to nod and accepted the locker key Dom handed to him. “I take it clothing is not optional!” he smirked as a slim, perfectly hairless naked guy strolled into view and gave Dom a familiar nod, and Michael an appreciative up and down stare.  
Dom licked his lips and efficiently stripped off his own overshirt, t shirt and belt, stashing them inside his own locker. “Everyone is naked….but you get a towel!” and he handed Michael one of the narrow white towels he’d been handed at the counter.

Michael peeled his polo shirt over his head and nodded as Dom caught sight of the marks he had left on his upper back, “Yep…..that’s your fault!.......not that I minded!” he added huskily as he sat on the bench to remove his shoes and socks and moved on to take off his jeans and underwear.  
Dom was down to his boxers speedily and Michael couldn’t quite stifle the groan he gave at the sight of another pair of crisp, white cotton briefs.

“What?” Dom asked, freezing and looking down, hoping his underwear wasn’t revealing what he was trying to keep at bay…..despite mental flashbacks to exactly how his teeth marks had come to be engrained into the man in front of him’s shoulders.

Michael shook his head and huffed out his cheeks, “Just……they remind me of army surplus…..it’s kind of hot!” he indicated the white garment.

Dom managed to turn and slip out of them before his cock started to give away the surge of overwhelming desire that had flooded through him upon Michael’s utterance of the word ‘hot’….there was something about his short, British vowels that seemed to affect him within.  
He wrapped the narrow towel low around his hips, showing off his powerfully demarcated abs and turned in time to catch sight of Michael Firth’s perfectly proportioned, semi erect cock before he encased his own hips in the white towelling.  
Michael locked his clothes into the locker and copied Dom’s action of slipping the red strap over his wrist and palming the key.

“Ready?” Dom drawled, noticing a fractional moment of shyness flash across the Englishman’s face.

“What exactly am I likely to……I mean…how does this work?” Michael asked in an alarmingly seductive hiss.

Dom stifled his moan as a slight snigger, “OK, so……basically, you look, and if you get eye contact and you're interested, you smile….or in your case flash one of those James Bond smirks, and you move somewhere more secluded to discuss what you’d like.”

Michael rested his hands loosely at his hips and dazzled Dom with exactly the 007 wolfish gaze he’d visualised, “And what is on the menu? I mean….as a rule?”

“You can just kiss, or hands, or a blow, or a bit of ass action….pretty much anything except penetrative anal,” Dom noticed that Michael’s eyes were trained on his like two tractor beams as he reeled off the list of sensual delights, "....although hands are OK up there."

Jesus, Dom was trying really hard not to imagine Michael Firth receiving each of the items on the list from him…..and then being on the receiving end of that intense, dusky mouth as he reciprocated!

Fuck!

He was a tour guide…..not a menu option!

Michael inhaled deeply, Jesus the thought of Dom delivering that exact list was pretty much his idea of perfection!

“Isn’t it a bit early in the day though?” Michael asked as he sauntered behind Dom through the tiled walkways.  
Dom sniggered over his shoulder, “Oh god….you’re such a newbie! We’ll get the lunchtime crowd….trust me, lots of guys want to fit in some fun over their lunch hour!”  
The pair wandered through the showers where Hairy Brad was shamelessly showering with a full erection, as usual! He gave Dom a nod of greeting and cast an appreciative glance over Michael’s lithe physique.

Dom guided Michael into his preferred steam room and settled himself, arms splayed wide against the green tiles.

“I’m guessing this is not the place to come expecting to get a long term relationship out of it?” Michael stated, his head stretched back as he rolled his shoulder blades into the relaxing heat and humidity.  
Dom chuckled slightly and glanced across; Michael was seated in the exact position that Lyn had occupied when he’d first met him.

“Actually I met my last serious boyfriend here….exactly here to be precise!” Dom explained, swiping his hand back through his hair to remove some of the sweat which was accumulating and prevent it stinging into his eyes.  
Michael gave him one of his dazzlingly erotic side glances, “A serious boyfriend? I thought you weren’t the serious type?” he grinned.

“Well, in general I’m not, and to be honest I wasn’t looking for serious when I met Lyn….but sometimes it just happens….right?” Dom flicked his eyes away from Michael’s rippling chest, rather than focus on the rivulets of water running across the dark, wet chest hair.

The guy who had happened upon them in the locker room appeared at the glass door and stared quite purposefully at Michael.   
He ran his palms across his chest and focussed his attentions on the gold ring through his left nipple.

“OK…..so, what do I do if I’m not interested?” Michael asked without taking away his neutral gaze.  
“Not interested? I thought you wanted to sample the whole thing?” Dom asked.  
Michael maintained his eyes on the man who was now clearly tenting beneath his towel through the door. “Well, I might want to sample a bit more….just he’s not my type…I prefer to feel like I’m fucking a man!”

Dom glanced at the guy outside; he was decent enough looking - and he knew from his own past experience that he gave a decent blow job – but he was slender and smooth skinned and clearly Michael liked a hairy guy.

“OK, so you give a non committal nod and you turn physically to talk to me,” Dom instructed.  
Michael executed the actions perfectly and the smooth guy outside cast a slightly downcast, but not annoyed glance towards Dom before he strolled off.

“So come on…..tell me more about dreamy guy you met here….how come you’re single again?” Michael asked, inhaling the hot steam deep into his lungs, closing his eyes and enjoying the slight burning sensation to his nostrils.

Dom hadn’t spoken to many people about the whole Lyn aftermath – Doris being the exception, and Patrick knew a little about it – but he had moved on.

“Well, Lyn was considerably older than me, and he wanted an open relationship….that was all he could give and…..I thought initially that was gonna be fine….aaaannnnd, turns out it wasn’t. So we broke up a couple of years ago and I’ve been single and not looking since,” he stated, meeting Michael’s mesmeric, green-eyed gaze, which had been focussed on him as he spoke.

The Englishman stretched out his long legs and cross his ankles, “Well, the love of my life decided they weren’t gay afterall….that was fours years ago….I find it hard to trust anyone now…..but I haven’t given up hope,” he said, calmly and gave a slight sob as a buff, hairy chested Latino guy appeared at the glass door.  
He was clearly stroking his erection beneath his towel as he cast appreciative eyes between both Dom and Michael.

“Hmmmm…..now he’s a bit more my style,” Michael murmured huskily, giving the guy his full, laser beam smoulder and allowing his lips to part fractionally.  
Dom sucked in his own breath, “Yeah….he wants us both!” he stated bluntly.  
Michael’s eyebrows raised minimally, “Who could blame him!”  
Dom ran his hand across his jaw, “You wanna go for it? You can have him solo if you want.”  
“Oh I think I’d quite like what he wants…..you coming?” Michael asked, playfully as he stood up and glanced across as Dom.  
“That’s the idea,” he murmured and followed Michael through the door as the trio made their way towards the back shower and massage rooms; which were basically like the steam rooms without the steam!

“I wanna rim you,” the stranger stated, pointing at Dom, “And I wanna suck on whatever you’ve got,” indicating Michael who was copying Dom and the ‘new guy’ by removing his towel.  
“Sounds great,” Dom drawled, trailing his hands confidently across the incredibly pumped up and inked biceps of the addition to their group. “Who’s first?”

Michael was mentally trying to work out the logistics; he’d assumed they’d all be involved simultaneously, but the guy couldn’t use his mouth on Dom’s ass and his cock at the same time, no matter how talented he was!

“Mind if I suck on pretty boy here first off…..I love me a nice juicy foreskin!” the Latino hunk smiled, licking his lips and indicating that he wanted Michael to stand between his splayed legs as he sat on the tiled ledge.  
“OK if I get in on this?” Dom asked, pressing himself behind Michael’s quivering body and allowing his fingers to tease up and down the cleft of his ass, pressing and testing out how pliant his entrance was.  
Michael grunted as he was taken deep into the throat of the complete stranger and as Dom played against his hole.   
He twisted his neck across and captured Dom’s mouth with his own, sucking hungrily on his delving tongue.   
Dom sobbed and without any further caution sank his finger deep inside Michael’s perfect channel.

Michael knew he couldn’t possibly last long – having 2 men so fixated on his pleasure was powerful and his hands clasped around the dark, sleek hair of the man who was ecstatically deep throating his cock, his own erection twitching and ready to burst between his legs.

“Oh fuck….Dom……..more……please, more,” he sobbed, rocking into the glorious blow job and the exquisite intrusion in his arse.  
Dom squeezed a second finger inside his tight entrance and resumed his twisting, pumping attention.

The dark headed Latino briefly lifted his eyes, presumably sensing that Michael was close, and dragged his mouth away, murmuring, “Across my face.”  
Michael gasped momentarily; he’d been so fucking close, but he wasn’t completely ready.   
However, Dom clamped his teeth to his earlobe and breathily whispered that he wanted to watch him come and that was enough to have him tugging at his own cropped hair and Dom’s damp curls whilst liberally covering the ecstatic stranger in ribbons of his salty release.

All three groaned in a combined recognition of a job well done, and Dom slid his fingers out of Michael’s backside.

Catching his breath the stranger glanced up at Dom, “You ready for your turn now?”

He twitched his eyebrows and licked his lips, trying not to stare at Michael’s perfectly muscled physique that somehow looked even more sexy now that he was panting and gasping for air.  
Dom leant forwards and rested his hands on the wide tiled ledge, Mr Tattoo standing behind him and growling as he rubbed his hand across Dom’s pert, softly fuzzed arse cheeks.  
“Hang on…..what am I doing in this?” Michael asked as the pair looked about ready to get to it.  
Dom glanced down at his own erection standing proud of his abdomen, “Jerk me off?” he suggested.

Michael wolfishly shook his head, grasping his lips between his teeth, “That doesn’t seem half enough based on what I got!” and instead he grabbed a towel and tossed it to the floor, using it as cushioning as he dropped to his knees and backed himself between Dom’s splayed legs.  
Dom inhaled deeply as Michael’s large palm gripped firmly and confidently around his rigid length before he trailed his tongue along the fullness of his shaft, creating a delirious scrollwork and purposefully avoiding the leaking, desperate head that Dom kept twitching closer to his lips.

“Fuck!......Michael, will you fucking make me cum and stop teasing,” Dom groaned as his rear was being tongued within an inch of it’s life.  
The dark haired man on his knees eyed Dom’s desperate, pouting lips with a slightly sinister smirk, “I’ll finish you……but don’t you dare cum on my face……I'm thirsty!”  
Dom gave a masculine and slightly out of control shout as Michael sucked his full length deep into his throat and grasped him firmly around the thighs in order to start him fucking his mouth in earnest while Latin guy abruptly ceased his oral onslaught and began to jerk himself off with his firm, rapidly moving grip, aiming his impending release towards the cheeks of Dom’s arse which he’d dragged himself away from.

The lack of pressure behind him now meant that Dom could buck his hips and grind himself fully against the stubbled jawline of the man who was currently pretty much staring him out and almost daring him to cum.  
Michael was loving taking Dom this way.   
He could tell from the slight glaze to the piercing blue eyes that were staring down at him that he was close, and when Dom trailed his fingertips down to locate Michael’s short, damp hair to signal his impending release he sobbed afresh as his hips were almost rammed against the hungry mouth that swallowed down each blissful drop of his salty cream.

Dom groaned and rocked gently against Michael as he came down from his high, enjoying the feeling of his firm splayed palms caressing his hips and arse.  
With a sheepish smile Michael pulled free of his connection to Dom and wriggled slightly to ease the pressure on his knees on the tiled floor.  
The dark haired, dark skinned stranger was looking appreciatively at both men, who only appeared to have eyes for each other.

“You guys good?” he asked, receiving small gasping nods from each. “Ok…..see you around,” he added, swiping up his towel and ambling towards the showers.  
Michael made to follow him but was stopped by a small movement from Dom, “We let him shower first in private,” he explained.

Michael cast him an incredulous glance as Dom assembled his towel around his hips, “Hang on….seriously?! We’ve just done that…..and a fucking good that it was….but we have to let him shower on his own….why? Please tell me it’s not because it would be considered pervy!” he giggled.  
Dom chuckled along with him; it did sound kind of crazy when phrased that way!

Dom beckoned with his head for Michael to follow him and the pair moved out of the small room.   
Michael assumed they’d be heading towards some other shower or sauna space but instead he found himself grappled against a narrow hallway wall and pressed firmly into it as Dom’s face moved millimetres away from his.  
“Does this still count as fun?” he whispered, shifting his eyes purposefully between Michael’s slightly open lips and his seductively dilated eyes.  
“Well I had fun….so yeah….it counts,” Michael replied, “I think this might be fun too,” he added and reached out his chin fractionally, angling his lips and connecting his tongue with Dom’s before they melted into each others’ kiss……and remained that way for a long, passion filled moment.

Dom pulled himself away from the heavenly turmoil of Michael Firth’s mouth eventually, “We should shower,” he stated, his forehead still resolutely connected to Michael’s.  
“Are WE allowed to shower together? Or have I got to give you a 10 minute head start?”   
Dom sniggered and inhaled deeply, “No….we can shower together…..but keep your hands to yourself!”  
Michael pulled a face of mock indignation, “MY hands? Erm….I think my backside might argue that yours have been getting up to far more mischief than mine!”

After showering and redressing, both casting furtive glances at the other man, Michael finally took a deep breath as he fastened the strap on his watch, “I’m actually staying in SF tonight; going back to LA tomorrow; I suppose you’re working later?......” he trailed off.  
Dom swallowed and struggled, partially unsuccessfully to cover the grin that tried to break out across his face.

“Yeah…I’m working……but I finish around midnight…” it was Dom’s turn to trail his sentence out; the undercurrent of what the pair were trying to consider but not say hanging like a thick cloud between them.

“I’d…..if you….” Michael pressed his lips together and placed his hands on his hips, his eyes focussing anywhere but on the piercing blue gaze of Dom.

“…I could come find you after…..just….for fun….obviously.”

Michael nodded, “I’m staying at the Hilton at Union Square….Room 612……”

Dom’s eyebrows arched up, “Wow…you do know that’s the hotel used in a classic San Francisco film from the early 70s……actually the film that made me realise I was gay!”

“Are you talking about What’s up Doc?” Michael asked, with a delighted grin.

“Yeah!” Dom nodded.

“Oh God, Ryan O’Neil in that tartan bowtie….and those white cotton boxers!” 

“Exactly! That’s how I knew once and for all I was gay….I didn’t blink when Barbra was wrapped in that tiny towel, but when Ryan fell over backwards in those pyjamas….I fucking exploded!” Dom laughed.

“So…..are you going to pop by and see me again….obviously before we go our separate ways,” Michael murmured huskily.

“Obviously!” Dom agreed, “I’d really like to see you again…..in private!”

Michael nodded and trailed his knuckles along Dom’s softly furred cheeks.

“So, I’ll see you later then…..this was a lot of fun….and very, very San Francisco!”

Dom pulled himself away from Michael’s tempting lips and clicked a pointed finger at his chest, “ I’ll see you later,” and he turned and left, leaving Michael grinning after him and wincing slightly as he sat down without considering what the man who’d just left had been doing to his arsehole less than half an hour earlier!


	15. Looking for a souvenir from San Francisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, still San Francisco based and centring on Michael and Dom....but they sow the seeds of getting Kevin and Patrick together again....which I promise is going to happen soon.  
> I had a bit of a block over a few bits, but I think I might have pushed past it all and worked out the kinks (no pun intended!)  
> Thank you for your patience....I am just Looking for the Right Ending for these boyz!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Souvenir....yeah! (Lula knows!)

Once back at his hotel Michael scanned through his emails and conceded that the pale blue screen really did render the deciphering of them slightly less onerous.   
There was a message with several attachments from the legal department at MDG.   
He forwarded them onto Chloe and asked her to give them a quick once over.  
There was also an email from Kevin, which he cautiously opened; however it contained professional content linked presumably to the artwork job he’d mentioned. There was a forwarded email from someone called Elise Harper who from what he could see had some connection to gallery spaces in downtown LA….the request was for someone to devise a short piece of media which could be used to advertise the upcoming season of events.   
It was something Michael had done in the UK quite a lot, but he’d focussed more on producing his own stuff since moving to the US.

It looked interesting…..he replied to Kevin with a short message about his interest being piqued.  
He was in the process of deleting several quick sales crap messages when the split screen, video conference mode flicked up in the corner and he saw Kevin’s face fuzzily moving and freezing back at him.

SHIT! 

He hadn’t prepared himself for ‘the chat’….and he certainly didn’t want to do it over the phone…..but if he didn’t answer that would be even worse!

M : Hey! Are you missing my sexy smoulder?

K: Ha ha! No! I’m just glad you like the look of that job…..Elise is great, but she’s hopeless on anything technical….you’d be great at developing the campaign, and it’s excellent money!

M : You know the money doesn’t do it for me! I’m in it for the art, you philistine!

K: [sniggering visibly and audibly] Yeah, although if a sexy guy happens to be peddling that art……

M : ….as long as it’s not serious….you know my rule!

K: speaking of which…….how have you found the San Francisco scene? Have you experienced it fully? [he quirked his eyebrow and pouted in a knowing fashion]

Michael didn’t want to lie to his friend, but he really didn’t want to start into the whole shit storm relating to Patrick over the phone……the rather delectable fuck storm that was Dom however was different……Dom had no claim on Kevin.

M : Actually yeah……I’ve erm…..had a couple of rather SF experiences. [he was grinning and rubbing his hand across his jawline]

K : [nodding, and with an expression that suggested he’d never imagined anything else] OK…..details please…..I need to have a sex life vicariously through you!

M: [clearing throat and grinning widely] OK…..I got fucked by a guy I met last night at his place, and he gave me a pretty excellent blow job….and earlier today……I had a threeway in a steam room!

K: FUCKING hell! Jesus…..you’ve had more guys in 24 hours than I had in my whole time there!

M: Hmmmmm, actually maybe not….one of the ones in the threeway was the same one from last night!

K: [eyebrows leaping up to his scalp and mouth forming a tight ‘0000’] Michael Firth presumably getting someone’s number and arranging a second date!? That’s unheard of!

M : I know! He’s fucking hot though!

K: Of course he is…..I’m guessing he has a name?

M:………….yeah………and I’m seeing him again…..he’s coming round when he gets off work….Shit Kevin! I told him I didn’t want serious……I don’t…..but he’s really, really fucking sexy….

K: Well, it had to happen one day! So…..a name please.

M: Dom.

K: Dom?

M : Dom…..yeah…..Dom.

K: Dom Basaluzzo?

M: Maybe….I don’t know his last name……you knew him….he knew……

K: He knew Patrick……yeah. Dom was dating an older guy called Lyn when I was…..there in San Francisco…

M: He mentioned that…..apparently they split up because….well….he gave reasons. 

K : That’s too bad….he seemed like a nice guy.

M : What? Lyn?.....or Dom?

K: Dom…..I didn’t ever meet Lyn….I, knew about him from what Patrick told me. The pair of them were very close friends.

M: I think they still are…..buuuut…..it is just a fling between me and him so when I get back home tomorrow he’ll just be a distant souvenir of my SF trip!

K: Hmmmm……maybe! Look, I’m glad the job at MDG is positive……and Patrick clearly has himself settled….so that’s all good….I’m good….just in case you were worrying. OK?

M : Yeah……Kevin…….mmmmm, nothing, it’ll keep til tomorrow. Take care and give Frankie a rub behind the ears.

K: Will do….you OK?

M: Yeah…just……a lot going on…I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ll pop round early evening.

had a delicious soak in the tub and packed most of his belongings away, ready for his flight the following day. He made sure that his room was looking neat and fished out a couple of condoms from his washbag and left them together with a pump bottle of his preferred lube in the small drawer beside his bed before he redressed and went out to locate a decent restaurant to eat in.   
He had his sketchbook with him and used the time between courses to play around with some basic designs and ideas for Patrick’s artwork concept.  
He returned to his hotel several hours later, pleasantly relaxed by wine and decent food.

Dom had spent an incredibly distracted evening working; he had to make up for skiving the night before, but things calmed down around 11 and he took the decision to close up a little early.   
After he and his team had cleaned up the kitchen area he quickly took a shower and dressed in casual trainers, jeans, t shirt and one of his favourite hoodies.  
He made his way towards Union Square and fired off a text to Michael:  
‘Finished early…..hope you haven’t fallen asleep. D’

After taking the elevator up to the sixth floor he knocked on room 612 and was instantly greeted by Michael’s gruff ‘Come here and keep me awake!’ as he was literally dragged inside the room and pressed against the warm, firm body of Michael Firth.

Their mouths didn’t separate for several, blissful, messy minutes, their hands reacquainting themselves with the contours of each other’s bodies.  
Panting demands, growling acceptance of what the other needed and several hours later they were lying sweating and satiated beside each other in the massive, crisply linened bed.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Michael stated, his knuckles trailing along the soft underside of Dom’s bicep  
Dom made a non-comital grunt beside him, nestling himself closer to the ‘almost impossible to leave’ body of the man who he was now finding it harder to view as a ‘no strings’ hook up.

“Have you decided what to tell Kevin?...I mean, about Patrick and Ritchie?” Dom asked.

Michael groaned slightly and twisted himself so that he was resting on one bent elbow and fist, facing Dom with the cover just maintaining his dignity, “Tanya…she’s one of our friends…..she thinks I need to just tell him everything and let him come to whatever conclusion or solution he wants.”

“Well, I have the same quandary with Patrick! I mean….I feel he should know that you know Kevin really well….but I suppose it is slightly different in that you have to maintain some kind of work relationship with him!” Dom stated.

“Exactly! I’d rather it not be an issue….but if he knows now it might be…..although if he only finds out later it could be even worse! What do you think?” Michael asked, allowing his fingers to trail delicious pathways through the chest rug of Dom that resembled a silver-back gorilla.

Dom inhaled deeply; partly at the amazing feeling that Michael’s touch created within his groin, and partly because he was slightly concerned about voicing the idea he’d had in his head, “I’m thinking what if we let them find it out themselves?”

Michael quirked his eyebrow and leaned his jaw back slightly from where it had been focussed on nuzzling into the manly aroma of armpit.

“What have you got in mind?” he asked, realising not for the first time that Dom’s eyes were so incredibly blue that he wanted to capture the exact shade and utilise it in every future artistic venture he started.

Dom shuffled himself further down the pillows, linking his arms around Michael’s waist and resting his hands together at the dimpled, lower back of the slender man, “How about I bring him with me when I……maybe visit you in LA…..and this between us could still be no strings, because obviously the only reason I’d be visiting you is to get Patrick and Kevin in the same location…..I was kind of negative towards him seeing Kevin the last time – I pretty stupidly thought he could put it all behind him and move on, and it’s pretty clear he’s still hung up on him, and from what you’ve said Kevin really loved him….and I think I might have got that wrong!”

Michael smirked, impishly at Dom’s almost overdone ‘I am definitely still no strings, just fun’ expression as he shared his idea.

“That sounds like something I could get behind……I mean purely to get those two together,” Michael stroked his palm across Dom’s firm abdomen. “Hmmm, so we’d have to keep up the pretence of erm, seeing each other if you’re going to convince Patrick I guess?”

The proximity of Michael’s hand was causing his cock to twitch back to life; remembering the effect that very same palm had had on it just a short while earlier.

“I suppose I’d have to convince him of my deep and passionate need to see you again,” Dom hissed, grinding his hips against Michael’s hand, and causing a throaty growl to be emitted from the Englishman.

“This does seem fairly convincing right now!” Michael grinned, pressing himself up onto his elbows and planking across the now stiff and smirking body of…..his…..what was he?......his lover?!?  
Shit!  
NO STRINGS....NO STRINGS....NO STRINGS....  
.....although maybe just one more fuck.......


	16. Looking for a way to kill time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I start the premise of luring Patrick down to LA with Dom.....but as you will see the first plan changes slightly.  
> There is a lot of Kevin soul searching in this one, plus I'm just throwing out there that my own view of Ritchie is mixed in here - ie that he wanted Patrick to change and be someone that he actually wasn't, right from the start!!!! Why can people not see this?!? (OK, because Ritchie was quite sweet about how he did it all!) BUT, basically he fancied him and then didn't want him to be dithery and indecisive, which is who Patrick inherently IS, whereas Patrick actually willingly became quite decisive when he was with Kevin!!! Just sayin'  
> Anyway....slow burn.....Kevin and Patrick are still not in the same city....but they're getting closer!

The following day Michael ambled across to catch up with Tanya before he dropped in on Kevin.  
He filled her in on the proposed plan, which she thought was a little risky, but also worth a shot given the information that had come to light regarding both Patrick and Kevin’s relationship statuses.

“You know what? You should give him a get out clause – Patrick is going to know he’s heading for Malibu and Kevin’s neighbourhood, so it’s only fair you tell Kevin…..just tell him late, OK?” Tanya suggested, sucking on a piece of pineapple as she placed her lunch time used crockery into the dishwasher.

Michael nodded, “Good point. I’ll tell him when they’re about half an hour away, that way if he desperately wants to run away he can, but it won’t give him too long to make a plan!....are we actually evil?”

Tanya shrugged, “We’re doing all of this out of love…..but I’m guessing he’ll call us both cunts! Anyway…..are you sure this arrangement of seeing Mr Basaluzzo is purely to get Kevin and Patrick talking? There isn’t one tiny part of you that’s actually looking forward to that rather than the whole Patrick/Kevin thing?”

“Less of the tiny!......Dom coming down here is to get Patrick down here……and I am not going to assume anything……although I’m hoping he’ll be sharing with me at some stage rather than using one of the guestrooms, yes!”

“So you like him?” Tanya asked, non-commitally.

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head as he exited her beachfront home, pausing partway through the door he turned, “I think I might want to,” he stated before he jogged down the wooden steps onto the beach and turned towards Kevin’s property.

Kevin had been edgy and trying to find things to do as he waited for Michael to come over.   
He knew he was back; he’d messaged both him and Tanya on their group What’s App thread.

Kevin tried to pinpoint his thoughts as he cleared out his refrigerator and put back the indate groceries neatly and in an organised fashion.  
He knew that Michael would have seen and spent time with Patrick, and the gang of friends he’d amassed around himself in San Francisco.   
He also knew that Michael would have to do a lot more of that if he was to start working with him.   
Kevin just wasn’t sure how he felt about it deep down.

As he stacked bottles of beer and sodas he thought one reoccurring thought : he wanted Patrick to be happy…..but he also realised that he wanted Patrick to know he’d done what he’d asked him to do all that time ago – he’d become honest and trustworthy, and for some reason that now seemed to matter to him…..it mattered that Patrick probably still thought of him as the angry and bitter blonde guy who’d met him before Eddy and Augustin’s wedding….and it mattered to Kevin that he knew he wasn’t that man anymore….and hadn’t been for a long time now.

Oh fuck!

That meant that he really hadn’t moved on!

He’d started a new life, got a whole group of people around him, but he hadn’t moved actually moved on.

He thought about Tanya, and what she dealt with everyday…..she’d suffered so much more crap than he had and yet she’d moved on….she was able to not only be in the same room with the man who’d destroyed her happiness, but she was actively supporting him, arguing his case…..she was at peace with it all.

Why the hell couldn’t he do that over Patrick?

He was in the process of wiping out the salad crisper drawers with anti-bacterial spray and kitchen paper when Frankie skittered across the polished wooden floors and greeted Michael noisily and damply.

The two men regarded each other for a silent, but powerfully communicative moment before they smiled at each other.

“Everything OK?” Kevin asked sheepishly, dropping the wad of white paper into the trash and rinsing his hands.  
Michael nodded and pressed his lips together before seating himself on one of the tall stools across the counter from where Kevin was now stood, resting on his elbows on the counter top.

“Yeah…..it went well….and I can definitely see why you enjoyed San Francisco!” he stated, meeting Kevin’s blue eyed gaze and narrowing his own eyes as he saw a brief, ‘miles away’ expression flash behind Kevin’s.

Kevin nodded and smirked, “Dom? Hmmm, well, I assume he made your evenings enjoyable at the least!”

“Definitely!” Michael almost panted like a lovestruck teen.  
Kevin leapt on the tone, “Oh my God! You like him! You said it was no strings fun….but you like him! I know that voice….that’s your ‘what am I going to do I’m in lurve’ voice!”

Michael softly banged his head on his darkly haired forearm, “I do like him Kevin…..really! But he just wants fun and non serious…..but I’ve invited him down here to stay for the weekend….and he said yes!”

Kevin made a slack jawed expression of amused happiness, “Oh wow! Dom down in Malibu…..the guy never needed an excuse to strip off his shirt….he’ll be all over that beach…and you!”

“Will you be OK about it? I mean seeing him again, and he’ll no doubt talk about Patrick…?”

Kevin almost pouted and flicked his eyes briefly to the ceiling before meeting his friend’s serious stare, “Michael, if you like Dom, then he’s going to be part of us, our friendship….that’s something I sort of didn’t really understand or get when I was with Patrick….the importance of that close friendship group. And it doesn’t matter how I feel, or what I think about him, but actually, I always kind of liked Dom….he was solid; always there for people….and if you like him he must be OK! I’ll be fine.”

Michael toyed with the idea of mentioning the whole Patrick joining him thing but stopped short.

“Anyway, I’m away on Saturday myself; gotta go to Mark’s place and agree some new targets and the action plan for the company for the next twelve months, so I’ll be in New York from Friday and back here on Sunday afternoon….I was going to ask you to look after Frankie…but given that you will presumably be engaged in a fuck fest royale I’d better ask Tanya!”

Michael sniggered and stored away the details to message Dom with later – maybe this was even better, Patrick wouldn’t have to bump into Kevin on this visit instantly, and depending upon timings they might only see each other for a brief window….or even not at all….but, Frankie could be the perfect opportunity for Patrick to find out a little about Kevin as he exists NOW.   
“Frankie is more than welcome at mine, you know he is….plus it’ll be an excuse for us to have to leave the house!”

Kevin lowered his eyes to the counter and gave what Michael knew to be a familiar twist of his lips, which meant he was about to talk about something he found difficult, “So, Patrick seems….what? Happy? And he looks…..well, and…..?”

God, the guy was still broken into so many pieces, it made Michael’s heart physically ache for him.   
He’d felt that way for someone before – there’d been one serious relationship in his past that had affected him and still impacted upon his ability to get close to people, but the torture and tears had ceased for him….clearly not for his friend!

Michael gently reached across and rested his palm on Kevin’s wrist, where his fingers were focussed on fiddling with his watch strap as a distraction, “Patrick looks really handsome….and I think he’s happy….which is odd considering he’s actually just broken up with Ritchie.”  
Michael paused after withdrawing his hand.   
Kevin’s watch strap attention had halted sharply and instead there was a tremble to his previously stoically twisted lips and his fingers were curled into loose fists.  
There was a powerful silence between the pair.

Michael watched his friend closely, unsure of what to say or do next.  
“Did you hear what I said?” Michael ventured softly, his expression melting at the sight of Kevin’s tiny, rapid nods.

“I knew it wouldn’t last,” Kevin whispered softly. “Ritchie might have been the nicest guy in the world…..but he wanted him to change too much.”

Michael remained where he was, nodding and listening; offering no further information – Tanya was so right about Kevin; it was possible to almost see the various cogs and images whirring in his brain as he tried to compartmentalise and understand how he felt about the new information.

Sighing and maintaining his focus on the counter top he continued, “Nobody seemed to want to see that Ritchie needed Patrick to be someone else, someone that he wasn’t when he met him and was attracted to him in the first place…..always made me pissed off that Ritchie was portrayed as a saint, just because he’d been single when he met Patrick and I wasn’t.”

Michael watched as various emotions flicked across his friend’s face, but he made no comments.   
He knew only what Kevin had told him about Patrick and their relationship; and to be fair it had been brief.

“I never wanted to change him…..I loved him being exactly who and what he was….I’d have been anything for him, if he’d just given me a chance,” Kevin ended his comment and crossed to the refrigerator he’d just neatly cleaned out.  
He brought back a couple of bottles of diet Coke and offered one to Michael.  
He now lifted his head and met his friend’s gaze.

“Did he say why they’d broken up?”

Michael almost melted at the completely honest, open and puppy-like expression of Kevin. “Ritchie left him for someone else….and apparently Dom said that Patrick is fine about it….something about it making sense to him and him understanding the feelings Ritchie has for this other guy….other than that, I don’t know…..but he honestly seemed really fine when we were out together with the others.”

Kevin nodded and pressed his lips to the rim of the glass bottle, taking a gulp of the soda. “Sounds about right,” he nodded.  
They drank in comfortable silence as they sipped their drinks.

Kevin’s mind swam with possibilities.   
Patrick was no longer with Ritchie.   
Patrick was handsome.   
Patrick was……he was the only man he loved......and he truly still did.


	17. Looking like a smitten kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little one with a bit more glorious Doris and a conversation between Dom and Patrick about the trip.

In San Francisco Patrick was in the office, working through his usual mixture of emails, phone calls and monitoring meetings with his team.   
HIS team!  
It was weird to think that he’d only just taken over from Owen, but he felt so at home at MDG….even though many of the people he had worked with had long since moved on – just the nature of the tech industry.

His phone rang around mid afternoon on Wednesday and he smiled as he saw Dom’s goofy image come up on the caller ID.

P: Hey! You’ve saved me from boredom eating my way through an entire packet of Oreos.

D : Good! Can’t have you turning into FatRick now you’re newly single!

P: I’m in good shape! Just because I haven’t got that washboard belly of yours. I’ll have you know I am doing yoga….which reminds me I need to find somewhere in the city that’s handy for me with work…

D : [interrupting] Ok, this is actually not a social call….it’s more of a plea really. Michael has asked me to go down and stay at his place for the weekend…..in Malibu….and he told me to ask you too….something about a few ideas for the game he’s working on for you and the colour and light…I think he said some buildings he wanted to show you….soooooo…..are you up for a road trip?

P: Dom!!! Oh my God….you said this was fun, no strings!

D : I know! And it is…..I think…..although I don’t know….I like him.

P: [grinning down the phone broadly] OK! That’s cool, you’re allowed to! So, what we drive down there?

D: Yeah…..take Friday off, then come back Sunday. Michael has a beachfront house Patrick! Imagine!

P: Wow!!!! You do seem to have a thing for guys with money!

D: Oh fuck you! I didn’t know Lyn was so rich when I met him….and it certainly wasn’t a factor in me falling in love with him….otherwise I wouldn’t have left him!

P: I know! I know! Beachfront house in Malibu though?! Jesus Dom…..oh God, does that mean I’ll get to see Michael Firth in speedos? Please say that’s on the to do list!!!

D : An ocean swim with Michael is on MY wishlist…..I’m not sure I want you there though!

P: Oh fuck! Does this mean I’m going to be playing gooseberry all weekend while you two fuck like sex starved newly weds?!

D: [laughing] NO! definitely not! This is an opportunity for Michael and I to establish ourselves as ‘two guys who have fucked but are now just friends’……I think.

P: Yeah! You sound completely convinced. But you know what, I’m in….I need to start saying yes to more experiences, I need to widen my circle of acquaintances, I need to…..I need to see Michael’s beachfront house in Malibu for fuck’s sake!

D : Cool! So I’ll message him and tell him we’re both in. If we leave around 10 on Friday morning we should get there early evening, then we can have all of Saturday….

P: OK, I can arrange the day off, and I’ll pencil in a later start of Monday so we could leave later and get back here later too…..I’ve missed this kind of thing…..I never did stuff like this with Ritchie….we did stuff together, but I like this spontaneity!

D: Spontaneous can be good!

They rang off and Dom winced at his own subterfuge.   
After further discussion with Michael….daily…..[fuck! They’d talked on the phone daily!]….they’d decided that they would not tell Kevin or Patrick.   
Kevin was going to be in New York, and chances were he wouldn’t see Patrick at all….so their intention had been simply to drop in small comments about the owner of Kevin’s house being gay, and single, and attractive…..and see if Patrick seemed interested.   
Actually, what the fuck……both Dom and Michael had realised days earlier that the whole point of the weekend visit was really an excuse for them to see each other again…..but of neither had voiced this outloud!

Michael was making a big deal about preparing guestrooms – one adjacent to his own room for Dom and the other on the other side of his property overlooking Kevin’s house – and making sure he presented himself in the best possible way.  
He was also slapping himself (sometimes mentally, sometimes physically!) about how ridiculously ‘high school romance’ he was being about Dom coming to stay with him!

Dom had informed Doris of the visit and the plan.   
She had squealed and made small seal claps – mainly at the concept that Dom was going all the way to Malibu to see his ‘not a boyfriend, no strings fuck buddy!’

“Oh my God, Dom….you are so smitten! You are soooo the smitten kitten!”

“Shut up! We’re doing this for Patrick!”

“Oh yeah! Of course….because Kevin is going to be…..ah,ah,ah…..in New York!”

“But he’ll meet his dog!”

“Kevin’s dog! Are you thinking that the dog will somehow mentally inform Kevin of Patrick’s visit….and his lurve for him…..I mean, if he even has it still….. you’re only going off what Michael has told you about Kevin….the guy could have moved on!?”

“Doris, he hasn’t been with anyone since Jon….he’s not over Patrick! Michael said when he told him about Patrick and Ritchie splitting up he was trembling!!!”

“So? Maybe he was cold….maybe he was supressing a fart!....you don’t know….you just wanna fuck Firth’s asshole again….who could blame you!”

“Am I a bad person because I REALLY do?!”

“No! Although I bet Michael would LOVE you to be a bad, bad Dom!”

“Hmmmmmm…….maybe on the next visit!”

“You see, you’re already planning it out…..smitten kitten!”


	18. Looking at a change of scenery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Dom go to LA, Kevin goes to New York....but maybe, just maybe he gets some news that throws his world into turmoil....and maybe he decides to come back a bit early....  
> .....but don't expect a reunion yet!  
> Oh, and Frankie gives his first inner monologue!

Friday morning saw Dom and Patrick meet up with Patrick starting off the drive out of San Francisco along the coastal route southbound.

Kevin was heading for New York on Business Class.  
He’d walked Frankie before he left and taken him to Michael’s house.  
On the plane he used the time to go over a few emails and the report he needed to present to Mark relating to his input and impact at Tru Gaming.  
There was quite a big agenda to get through; the upcoming twelve months were going to be pretty important and although the information given to him was vague, he knew that Mark wanted the company to start up a few more offices in big cities.   
The plan was for him to meet up and have a meal with Mark to discuss his future role in the company.   
Kevin had made it clear that he wanted to take on a little more responsibility and hands on management again…..he didn’t need the cash, but he did need something to occupy him.  
___

Dom and Patrick’s road trip was an opportunity for chat, laughter and dreadful singing along to their respective, eclectic tastes in music.

Patrick had persuaded (actually it hadn’t taken much!) Dom to tell him some of the more sordid details of his trysts with Michael Firth….although he did notice that there were a few moments when his friend’s eyes glazed over slightly and a rueful smirk crept across his face as he recalled and described some of the details.  
They stopped several times for gas, to pee and then refill their pee levels with soda, coconut water and on one occasion Slurpies.

Lunch was a diner meal of burritos and salad before they got back on the road – it was pleasant and picturesque driving along the coastal highway.   
Patrick had noticed that Dom seemed a little more twitchy as they passed Oxnard.

“You OK?” Patrick asked, flashing a smile as his friend tried to compose his face, but failing to supress the telltale press of his lips beneath the lush moustache he still sported.  
“I’m fine, just…..a little thirsty, can you pass me the water?”

Patrick obliged, “You’re nervous! Why? I thought we’d already agreed during that fascinating discussion about our host’s penchant for being a power bottom that you and him were just casual……and this was the perfect opportunity to show him how casual you are?!”

Dom tweaked his neck as he checked the signposts ahead and studied the sat-nav; they were apparently only 9 minutes away from Michael’s house.

“It is casual…..but, you know….I’d still like to think I made some kind of impression on the guy…..plus I want to see his house!” 

Patrick raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead…..then began to sing the chorus to ‘Hey Mickey’ by Toni Basil in his ‘fake’ queen voice.  
“Cut it out!” Dom batted at him with the empty bottle as he drove….but laughed along with his ridiculous friend.

Michael had showered; checked the guestroom towels; checked all of the toilets; reshowered; eaten a light lunch; picked up pastries and fresh fruit from the market in a bid to pass some time; re-reshowered and had been checking and rethinking his clothing choice for the past 40 minutes.

Frankie was regarding him with a deeply focussed gaze: …..this was most unusual……the blond guy who often cried seemed to have buggered off with the wheelie box with the handle….. the weird neighbour guy appeared to have his basket and bowl, and had been up and down and in and out of the house several times.   
Why couldn’t he just calm the fuck down?   
Frankie was trying to mentally will him to sit down when he went out to the bathroom….. again….Christ! weird neighbour pissed a LOT!

Dom and Patrick drew up outside the impressive, but modestly sized property and took sharp intakes of breath at the dry heat that engulfed them upon leaving the air conditioned comfort of the car.

Michael had heard the car draw up; flapped a bit and took a deep breath, and then heard the doors slam as he made his way towards the front door.  
He glanced at his appearance in the hallway mirror; he looked his usual stubbled, well groomed and darkly mysterious self….he also mentally punched himself for being such a complete arse-clenching tit!

Dom had gone round to the trunk of his recently upgraded Toyota Camry – the benefits of the Chicken window making a decent profit had meant he was finally able to wave goodbye to the Volvo which was beginning to cost more and more to keep it on the road!   
He was lifting his own and Patrick’s luggage out when the sleek looking front door opened and Michael stood to greet them, hands tucked inside the front pockets of his threadbare jeans.

“You made it!” he stated, walking across to shake hands with Patrick and paused, unsure of how to greet Dom who was still clutching the handles of his own battered leather holdall in one hand.  
Dom swapped the bag over and extended his hand to Michael.   
The touch of their hands was electric and each felt their eyes melt like slowly dissolving candies as they met the gaze of the other.  
Michael however cleared his throat and broke free from Dom’s firm grip.

“Come on in, I’ll show you around and then maybe we can go and see some of those buildings I want your opinion on….just to see if we’re on the same wavelength with regards to the artwork on Urban Destroyer.

“Sounds excellent!” Patrick nodded, picking up the handle on his wheeled suitcase.

The trio made their way inside to the hallway of polished teak floors and an eclectic mixture of sleek, modern furniture and older pieces representing various eras from 1930s curved art deco to 1950s brightly coloured classics.  
The first impression was very definitely a reflection of Michael Firth….sexy, cool, confident and stunning from every angle!

The general open plan nature meant that the living room, kitchen and dining areas were pretty obvious; and the views from the floor to ceiling windows towards the beach were simply stunning.

“Neighbour’s dog….hope nobody has allergies,” he stated, gesturing to Frankie who regarded the two new men with avid interest….despite not budging from his basket!  
“You’re through here Patrick….got your own shower room,” Michael indicated the door into a beautifully decorated room which had an enormous window overlooking the beach and a stunning property which was similar to the one he was in, but more ‘wooden’ and to Patrick’s mind homely looking.

“The other rooms are down the other end of the house, but the place isn’t huge so you can’t exactly get lost!” Michael continued and made to leave, brushing his groin against Dom’s hip on his way past him.

“Have I got time to shower?” Patrick asked, poking his head around into the shower area.  
“Sure, some of the places will look even better after dark…they’re beautifully lit,” Michael blushed fractionally as he explained himself. “Erm….I’ll show you to your room Dom…it’s this way.”

Dom’s room was adjacent to Michael’s, which had the door wide open to show a tasteful, simple room with amazing, dual aspect beachfront views.   
The guestroom was similar, but slightly smaller with the same floor to ceiling doors leading to the small, glass panelled veranda that he’d glimpsed next door.

“You’ve got a small washroom with a loo, but are you OK sharing the bathroom? I mean, you haven’t really got much choice…..but it’s like a Jack and Jill thing between the 2 rooms,” Michael explained, “I thought it’d be a little less awkward that giving this room to Patrick…..professional boundaries and all that!”

Dom smiled and placed his bag down on the covered blanket box at the foot of the guest bed.  
“I definitely think you’ve gone with the better option!” he stated, wandering across to the doors leading to the veranda and opening one wide, breathing in the fresh, ozone filled air.  
He sensed and then felt a slender, firm body pressing behind him, ushering him across the threshold and onto the decked area.  
He breathed deeply and licked his lips before twisting his neck around to find Michael’s mesmeric and deeply alluring gaze.

“Do you like the view?” Michael asked, grinding his evident erection against Dom’s pert and twitching buttocks.

Dom maintained his eyes on Michael’s stubbled jawline and thin, pale pink lips. “I think like is an understatement….but right now, I’d like to follow Patrick’s lead….a shower would be great,” he grinned at Michael’s saucily raised eyebrow, “Alone….on this occasion!”  
Michael pouted but released his grip on Dom’s waist, not before giving his abs a firm, wide splayed squeeze. “Am I allowed to ask you again later on?” he growled, leaning casually against the glass panels on the veranda and watching Dom’s backside intently as he made his way inside and towards his bag.

Dom rummaged around and extracted his toiletries bag while Michael sauntered back inside, “You can ask me anything you like…later on….but, right now I can’t believe I haven’t kissed you yet….so come here.”

Their lips met in a fiery and almost brutal manner, lips and teeth instantly exploring, Dom angling Michael’s neck so that he could plunder his mouth with his tongue. And both instantly forgetting the plan of establishing their relationship as purely platonic, post-fuck fuck buddies!  
Both men’s breathy exclamations made it clear that they’d ‘fucking missed’ each other and were ‘so glad to see you’ and were ‘horny as fuck for’ each other.  
But eventually Dom pulled himself away from the temptation of Mr Firth’s exquisite mouth and investigative hands.

“I’ll see you out there….oh, and Kevin still has no idea…..I take it neither does Patrick?” the Englishman stated, adjusting his jeans slightly.  
Dom shook his head, “He has no idea! I’m still not sure he isn’t gonna flip and demand to go back to SF!”  
“Chance we’ll have to take….by the way, do you ride? Motorbike that is? Thought we could explore the various sights that way…..Kevin has said I can borrow his, and Patrick could ride pillion……up for it?”  
Dom quirked his eyebrow and nodded, “I haven’t in a while, but that sounds like a very good idea….and thinking of you straddling a motorcycle has made me definitely need a shower….a cold one!” and he shoved the smirking Englishman out of his room before stripping off and spending several blissful minutes under the torrent of water.  
_____

Kevin had arrived in New York and found his way to his hotel.   
The three hour time difference meant that he was due to meet Mark for their planned dinner in about 45 minutes so he took the opportunity to shower and dress in a pair of smart, flat fronted navy trousers and a pale blue linen shirt. He wasn’t a tie person, but neither was Mark, so he added the relatively casual, but smartish jacket he’d worn to travel in and spritzed a little of his fresh scented after shave across his freshly moisturised skin.

The restaurant was a decent choice, popular but not overly fancy, but with a decent selection of bottled beers, including a couple of imported British ones which Mark had thoughtfully already ordered and were waiting for him as he shook hands and clasped an arm around Mark’s shoulder.  
Mark’s style was to leap straight in, so he’d already shared the most eye opening and breath catching element of his plan for Tru Gaming before they’d actually ordered their food.

So, he wanted Kevin to organise a new office……in San Francisco!   
He would head up the LA office and bring the new offices in SF up to speed with a view to making it their base for new ideas and developing in house talent.  
He’d have to go there and spend time recruiting staff, but Mark had already secured office space; when he mentioned the details Kevin bit his lip….it was in the same vicinity as the MDG headquarters.

FUCK!

He’d either have to avoid Patrick and MDG, or not avoid him and see him again.

Shit, fuck, arse!

He ate his meal without truly tasting the excellent quality steak, red wine and chocolate brownie.  
There were just too many thoughts running through his head…and he wanted to talk them all through with Tanya, or Michael…as soon as possible.

Mark had tickets to some theatre show with his wife, so he bid his farewells to Kevin at around 9pm.   
Making his way back to his hotel by cab he checked flights…..with the time difference accounted for he could be back in LA at around 1am….Michael would no doubt be balls deep inside Dom by that time, but Tanya would be around….and be needed someone…urgently.  
If he got a wiggle on he could be on the flight and home pretty much tonight…..he leapt from the cab and got himself a wiggle on; purchasing a first class ticket to shorten his check in time and arranging for a helicopter to transport him to the airport – he didn’t throw his money around as a rule, but even he felt rather flash as he left the hotel via the rooftop helipad!  
He'd get back to LA and find a friendly, familiar face to talk it all through with.....it felt like a good plan!


	19. Looking into the flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guyz on Harleys.......because why not!?  
> Then they join Tanya for a beach cook out, involving prawns (which I know are shrimp across the pond, but Michael is a Brit, so they are prawns!)......she tries to cover a slight slip up which makes Dom show some of his true feelings...  
> #sadDom

Half an hour later Dom made his way towards the sound of masculine voices; he discovered Patrick and Michael regarding a pair of rather wonderful Harley Davidson motorcycles.   
Patrick had changed into his traditional ‘off duty’ uniform of jeans, sneakers, printed t shirt and over shirt. 

“Dom! Come look, we’re gonna go look at LA on Harleys!” he squealed excitedly.  
Dom nodded and took a sharp intake of breath as Michael swung his leg across the saddle of his cycle and tossed a casual smirk in Dom’s direction.

“You can ride this one, it’s Michael’s neighbour’s and I can be pillion….because, well, then I get to not have a nervous breakdown….and I’ve never actually ridden a motorcycle, can you believe that?” Patrick continued.

Both Dom and Michael exchanged glances, and stated simple, “Yep!” replies, which made Patrick wrinkle his face and bat Dom’s bicep as he dipped to pick up one of the helmets laying beside the bike.

“I could have ridden a motorcycle!” he whinged as he slid the helmet on and fiddled with the fastener.

“But you haven’t!” Dom pointed out, finishing the task of fastening and tightening the chin strap on his buddy rather than wait while he did it wrongly.  
Michael slid on his own, slightly battered, but all the sexier for it helmet and his aviator shades as Dom settled the other spare onto his own head and threaded his sunglasses over his ears beneath the snug fitting padding.

“So where are we headed?” he asked as he made himself comfortable on the cycle, enjoying the fact that Michael gave a very visible swallow and twitch to his neck at the sight.  
With a clear of his throat he explained that his intention was to take them to see several buildings, including the Bradbury Building, the Coca Cola Building, the LA times building and Pan’s restaurant, hopefully explaining his vision and ideas for the game artwork, which would be a combination of turn of the century Victorian, 1930s art deco and 1950s retro craziness. They’d then return to the house and meet up with one of his neighbours (Dom’s eyes had widened!), Tanya (phew!), who would do her famous beachside barbeque.

Patrick was loving it!   
New experiences were certainly fun, and Michael Firth on a bike was sexy…and climbing behind Dom on a Harley that felt incredibly comfortable and familiar, despite the fact that he’d never ridden one in his life, was just exciting!

“Let’s go!” he squealed. 

Michael dismounted so that he could grab his phone and keys, locking the door and settling himself on the upright chopper with his long legs resting comfortably astride the cycle’s throbbing engine.  
A jerk of his neck and he manoeuvred the vehicle adeptly onto the road, waiting to ensure Dom caught up, and they spent an amazing few hours just riding, pointing, pausing to take pictures and discuss aspects of the scenery and architecture.

Patrick was amazed….apart from the sheer masculine pleasure of riding around LA on a Harley, Michael really did have fantastic taste in architecture.   
The story theme and ideas he was explaining came to life as he gesticulated animatedly at each of the buildings. He was clearly passionate, it came through as he urged Patrick to compare the ornate shaping of a window, or a curved roofline and consider each in a different manner – he wanted to merge the two styles and seemed to have an idea of a crisp, pale blue central to the theme for the game’s artwork.

Dom was enjoying seeing Michael ‘sort of’ at work….he was calm and casual on the cycle, but at each of the stop off points became very handsy and animated as he pointed out features and different eyelines; which although he was focussing on Patrick, he included Dom in, and seemed to enjoy the feedback he got from them both.

They arrived back at Michael’s property at around 9.30pm, there was a distinct aroma of burning firewood in the air as they garaged the cycles and made their way inside.   
On the beach in front of Michael’s stepped deck area a glorious fire was crackling with a tall, bare-footed female tending to it; a margarita glass in her left hand. Frankie was nestled closeby, his drooling jowls resting on crossed paws.  
Michael grinned warmly and ran out to hug her through the doors she’d let herself in through to release Frankie.

“He looked so fucking sad….he’s been keeping me company out here. You guys need to catch up!” she indicated the large pitcher of cocktail on the lower step.

Michael went across and poured out glasses which he presented to Patrick and Dom as he spoke, “This is the irrepressible Tanya; cooker of the best barbequed prawns…and yes I know you lot call them shrimp, but to me they will always be prawns! Tanya, this is Patrick Murray who I’m working with and this…this is Dom…Dom Basaluzzo,” he quirked his lips and eyebrows at Dom’s slightly startled expression…..he’d found out his last name!

Tanya waved and raised her glass to the pair, “Oh Jesus Michael!! You’re making me cook and this is the chicken guy…Christ!….oh well, welcome to LA….I assume you’ve had to endure his sermon on the architectural delights of art deco and 1950s design?” she grinned.

All three men laughed, Michael gave her a good natured ‘hang dog’ expression, “We rode Harleys around LA…..it was every gay man’s dream! Now, entertain my guests while I go and slip out of these boots!” and he flashed Dom a sly smirk as he made his way into the house, checking his phone enroute to his bedroom.

He wrestled off his black, biker boots and socks and decided to swap his t shirt for a more casual one, working on the basis that he was likely to get it covered in fire ash and other associated barbeque shit. He therefore dragged his tightly fitted white t shirt over his head and replaced it with a slightly crumpled grey marl one, adding a navy floral shirt over the top casually left open with the cuffs folded back.

When he rejoined the beach party they were already on second drinks and the pitcher was looking empty.  
Dom was enjoying chatting with Tanya near the fire – she’d started cooking a rack of ribs together with some vegetable skewers - Frankie had sidled across and was enjoying a pretty incredible ear rub from Patrick, who had seated himself on the wooden steps leading from the house to the beach. He was staring out at the ocean as the lights faded around them.   
The warmth and glow from the fire was beautiful, and he felt a strangely settled feeling inside as he languidly stroked the head of the rather adorable dog that had instantly made him think of the one on that sweater…..that amazing, cute, sexy sweater that seemed an eternity ago.

Michael did a quick about turn and came back outside carrying a 6 pack of beers and a bottle of chilled white wine from his refrigerator.  
Dom looked up as Michael strolled onto the beach.   
He immediately noticed his bare-footed, relaxed demeanour.

“White t shirts and Tanya’s ribs do not go together!” he stated cheekily as he put down his selection of drinks and picked up the glass of margarita that Tanya had poured out for him before the contents of the pitcher dwindled.  
“We need music!” Tanya announced, fishing her phone from the pocket of her capris, “I’m taking requests….but bear in mind Michael is very much aware of my preferred Friday night playlist!”

Michael dropped his head back as he swallowed most of the cocktail and made a throaty, and to Dom’s mind almost obscene, growl in his chest.

“Please Patrick!….suggest something otherwise we’ll have the full Dirty Dancing soundtrack on shuffle and repeat all night!” 

Patrick and Dom laughed; Dom pointed directly at his friend before directing his comment towards Michael’s shining green eyes, “You’re on a losing battle now….Patrick secretly wants to play Baby in an all male remake!”

Patrick himself stood up and came across to the others, Frankie waddling beside him and sitting next to his legs, staring up at him adoringly, “You’d think that I’d be desperate to play Johnny…you know the whole Patrick thing, but it’s the whole bridge dancing scene that gets me……I would soooo love to be Baby…play it Tanya and let’s both sing ridiculously loudly to every song…”

“….and can we play out scenes of dialogue…pleeease….these guys never want to play!” she stated.

“Guys?” Patrick queried.

Michael almost choked on the beer he’d switched to after finishing the margarita.

Tanya didn’t miss a beat as she replied, “Oh you know, Michael and his never ending stream of hook ups!” she flashed the man himself a glare and went to tend to the food cooking over the fire.

Dom averted his eyes momentarily and stared off into the flames.   
Why had that comment bothered him?

Michael had made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed the same kind of sex life that he himself favoured; ie numerous, no-strings hook ups.  
Why would it matter to him if Michael had fucked his way through half of LA?   
And what difference should it make if he’d brought a string of there here; maybe even giving them the same motorcycle joy ride and beachfront party combination.

Michael noticed Dom’s changed demeanour and instantly wished he could whisk him aside and explain….he never brought people to his house…..Dom was the first guy he’d asked to stay, albeit under the ridiculous pretext of wanting to get Kevin and Patrick talking to each other.

The strains of Big Girls Don’t Cry, accompanied by the strains of Tanya and Patrick singing ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’ accompanied the sun going down.   
As the song switched to She’s like the Wind Michael sought out Dom’s gaze; it had been firmly fixed on the flames and he looked sad….in a way that made the Englishman want to wrap his arms around him and kiss his eyes and neck until he smiled again.  
Dom sensed the intense stare from the dark haired man across the fire and more calmly than he felt raised his eyes and gave him what he hoped was a realistic smile.

Shit!

That was a fake smile….Dom was unhappy….Michael felt an overwhelming need to fix that….he just didn’t know how.

Thankfully Frankie was on hand….he shuffled his way across to the quieter man, now that the head rubby one was leaping around and making odd noises with the treat lady from nextdoor. He nuzzled his wet nose against Dom’s slightly bent knee and began a slow, tongue lolling pant as the man squatted down and began petting his velvety ears.  
Frankie scrabbled his paws up against his thigh and Dom overbalanced, falling to the soft sand, which Frankie took full advantage of as he basically ‘claimed’ his new friend by sitting on his chest and licking the salty skin exposed above his shirt.  
But it made Dom smile again…in fact it made him laugh and roll around slightly in an attempt to make sure the drooling saliva didn’t end up in his mouth….which of course Frankie took to be the best game in the world!

Tanya declared that the food was ready a few more songs later.   
Patrick went inside and brought back a second bottle of wine which they all drank from the same glasses as their cocktails, and the four of them sprawled around on the wooden stairs and sand as they ate sticky ribs, garlicky covered shrimp (or prawns, depending on your country of origin) roasted peppers, courgettes and tomatoes and crusty bread while Tanya’s phone continued to play through the entire, double special edition version of the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

The wine flowed, they all talked about their favourite films; Tanya and Patrick acted out various sections of Dirty Dancing, with Tanya giving a very respectable rendition as Johnny!  
Dom’s mood had lifted after his earlier wobble, but Michael hadn’t forgotten the look on his face or his body language, so when he went inside to use the bathroom a little later, Michael followed a few minutes after; almost unnoticed as Tanya and Patrick gave a killer rendition of Love is Strange.


	20. Looking at Kevin's house....all evening!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael tries to make Dom feel better - it hots up (and will continue in the next chapter!) - I would heartily suggest finding the song, Cry to me from the Dirty Dancing extended soundtrack.....that is what Michael is doing his snake hips to with Dom.  
> Patrick and Tanya talk....and she tells him about the K man!

Michael rinsed his hands at the kitchen sink to remove traces of sand, ash and spilt beer and loitered as he heard the lavatory flush and the trickle of water as Dom washed his own hands.  
He remained leaning his buttocks against the kitchen counter top, fingers tucked into his jeans pockets and cleared his throat as Dom dragged his palm through his delightfully ruffled hair enroute to the beach.

“I don’t bring hook ups here…..what Tanya said earlier….I don’t,” he stated sincerely, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears.

Dom turned and regarded the Englishman.  
God he was sexy, and to see him in his own environment somehow ratcheted the smoulder quotient up about a hundred notches.  
The playlist outside switched into the sultry, distinctive opening bars of Cry to Me, making Michael drop his neck back on his shoulders and stretch out his right hand towards Dom.  
Dom’s lips twitched beneath his moustache and he took a couple of steps towards Michael’s advancing form, entwining their fingers as they met.

“Dance with me,” Michael whispered huskily, and he basically didn’t give Dom an option to refuse as he wrapped his lithe forearms around Dom’s waist and pulled his body snuggly between his wide, grinding hips and languidly moved his chest in his panther-like style, keeping a perfect rhythm with the deep base from the music.  
Dom allowed himself to be pulled into Michael’s swaying embrace and groaned as the firmness of the slender man made itself evident rubbing against him.  
Dom slid his own hands along Michael’s biceps, grasping and enjoying the hissing intake of breath as he squeezed the bulging muscles trying to break out of his t shirt, the navy shirt long since abandoned.

Both men moved to the music, Michael really was an incredibly sensual dancer, he moved so easily and fluidly, and with his arms pulling and guiding Dom they became a swarming mass of masculinity, breathing hotly against each others’ necks, pressing their foreheads together and almost daring each other’s mouth to join in the crushing movement.

It was Dom who initiated the kiss after Michael had rolled his hips in a manner that left him almost speechless and seeing stars, with his thigh trapped firmly between the Englishman’s.  
He stilled Michael’s face before him and delved his tongue into the waiting warmth of his mouth, teasing him and making him reach out his lips and teeth when he pulled back and eyed him with his darkly-dilated eyes.

“Does this mean I’m not a hook up?” he hissed, tugging fractionally on Michael’s short, dark and slightly damp hair.  
Michael maintained his body movement, almost unable to stop himself from reacting to the deeply seductive rhythm and the tantalising highlights of the piano as the song played on.  
He tried in vain to encourage Dom’s mouth closer to his own; writhing and grasping at the older man’s body who ground his pelvis into the firm, rolling heaven of Michael’s hips.

Michael gasped as Dom tugged his head further back and bit down quite roughly on his neck, “I’m waiting for an answer, Firth!”

The growl and string of expletives that emanated from the Englishman’s mouth made Dom almost lose control in his pants.  
He distracted himself by dragging Michael’s grey t shirt up and over his head, gasping as he undulated in time to the music, showing off those amazingly defined abs to perfection.  
Michael took the opportunity to bend forwards and run his palms down Dom’s arse and thighs, tugging firmly and dragging him closer into his body, almost lifting him off his feet in his urgency.

“We said no strings,” Michael murmured, “But….I think I want strings. Would that be OK?” he continued, groaning into Dom’s greedy mouth as it moved along his jawline and down as he pushed his body back to gain access to the darkly furred chest of Michael as he arched backwards, maintaining the pressure of their groins pressed together.  
Dom sucked and bit down on one of Michael’s hard nipples before staring up into the swirling green pools of pure desire that looked back at him, “Is it OK that I really want to tie you up in those strings?”

Michael almost lost it, making a completely wanton, guttural noise in response, “Bedroom……now….please Dom….I fucking need you right now.”

Dom briefly wondered whether he should go and mention something to Patrick, and Tanya….very briefly….but moments later Michael had unfastened his flies and was gripping his cock and thoughts of anyone other than the dark, ridiculously attractive man stroking him went out of his head.

Somehow they made it into Michael’s bedroom, he kicked the door closed after them, not wanting their mouths to separate for a second.  
Dom’s kisses were like a drug.  
They were bruising, ravenous and as far as Michael was concerned, fucking perfect.

He noisily dragged Dom’s shirt off and gloried in pressing his hands across his rug-like chest.  
“Do you really want to tie me up?” he hissed, panting as Dom’s mouth found his nipple once again, his fingers and thumb locating the other and pinching it to the cusp of pain.  
Dom released his mouth and licked his lips, “I do…..but first I want that shower!” and he manoeuvred their bodies around the frosted glass wall and into the large, immaculate bath and shower room.

The sound of dancing and laughter....and audible making out , had died down from inside Michael's house when Tanya rejoined Patrick and Frankie on the steps, bringing steaming mugs of tea with her.  
"You're welcome to sleep at my place if you'd prefer to leave them to whatever it is they're up to in there," she stated, cradling the mug of camomile between her hands as she sat next to Patrick.  
He laughed and blew across his tea, "That's kind Tanya, but I kind of knew what I was letting myself in for this weekend! I'll be fine!"

Tanya smiled at him, "So, if you knew those two were gonna hook up how come you agreed to come all this way to play gooseberry?"

Patrick glanced out across the dark ocean; only the barest ruffles of white foam visible as the waves broke at the beach edge.  
"I need to start doing something different with my life; I figured this was a start - saying yes to trying new things, new places......my boyfriend broke up with me recently, so I need to move on," he stated.

Tanya absorbed every ounce of Patrick's communication in her amazing way - she noticed each flicker of his eyes, each twitch of body language as well as the actual words he chose and used.

"So, what makes you so sure you need to instantly move on? Would there be anything wrong with just staying as you are for a while? Languishing in being single? Finding out who you are?" she asked.

Patrick remained focussed on the ocean but sipped at his tea, "No, it would be OK I guess.....I just....I recently moved back to a city that has a lot of history for me....to a job that has history too, and I'm considering some decisions I made and...shit, it's complicated," he trailed off.

Tanya nodded and took a deep breath before she spoke, "You mean history as in....Kevin?"

Patrick's body froze, but his face whipped around to meet Tanya's soft expression with a wide-eyed look of bewilderment.

"Yeah I mean Kevin....what do you know about Kevin? Did Dom tell Michael about me and Kevin? Did he tell YOU?" he was almost shrieking as his voice did that thing of going up an octave with each statement.

Tanya calmly shook her head and continued to sip her tea; somehow the fact that she wasn't retracting her comment or floundering around to cover up made Patrick feel less threatened.  
"No, don't worry, if Dom did tell Michael anything he wouldn't blab that kind of stuff....I know about Kevin because Kevin lives right there," she indicated the gorgeous traditional house almost next door to Michael's.

"What?" Patrick flicked his gaze between the house and Tanya - a soft glow was visible from a lamp in one of the rooms, but otherwise the house was dark.

"That's his dog, Patrick," she indicated Frankie who was slumbering and snoring gently with his back against Patrick's ankles on the sand.

"This? But.....oh my god.....Frankie is his and Jon's dog?....." his expression was of complete bewilderment and mild amusement.

Tanya nodded, "Yeah, they've been pretty inseparable since they met....but Frankie is just Kevin's dog.....he's not been with Jon for a long time."

Patrick was certain that his heart beat would be audible to Tanya, but she was either ignoring it or it really was only pounding in his own ears.

SHIT!

He'd been staring at Kevin's house all evening....Kevin's perfect, slightly shambolic, perfectly cosy looking home.....that he wasn't sharing with Jon, or another guy....he was sharing it with a completely adorable dog called Frankie!

SHIT!

Tanya waited, allowing his brain to process the information she'd just thrust upon him.  
"Kevin hasn't been seeing ANYONE since he came here," she stated softly.

Patrick's mouth opened and closed several times, "I.....I thought he'd moved on....I thought he was happy with Jon....Jon's media page says he's settled and happy.....I....God...Tanya....oh shit!"

"What? What's the oh shit for? He's not in a relationship, other than loving this dog with every bone in his body and caring for his friends," she clarified as Patrick stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

"But Tanya he's not here...he's gone away...did he know I was coming? Has he gone so he could avoid me? I mean......shit...wait....his friends?"

Tanya smiled and reached out her free hand to almost tether Patrick and prevent him pacing himself into a frenzy, "Kevin had a business meeting this weekend, he's due back on Sunday and....I have no idea whether it was a dumbass idea or a brilliant one, but Michael and Dom thought maybe you two could have seen each other really briefly and started to consider whether you could be friends."

Patrick huffed out his cheeks, his eyes had suddenly become glitteringly moist in the dim firelight, "Kevin and me can't be friends......he hates me for what I did...."

"No he doesn't Patrick....he's realised a lot of stuff....stuff that's important to him....and you, Patrick Murray, oh my god, you are so top of that list," she met his tearful gaze with a sincere and heartfelt, silent plea. "Give him a chance."

Patrick swallowed the firm lump in his throat, "Can I trust him Tanya? I mean shit,......can he trust me?"

"You know the answer to both those questions Patrick...deep down...and you always have," she stated as she stood up and brushed the sand from her rear. "Think about it....I mean obviously you're gonna think about it, but......... think about it. You can go home tomorrow without seeing him and he won't know you were here if that's what you prefer....but Jesus, what a waste."

Patrick walked over to her open arm invitation and hugged her.  
"I want to see him so badly," he whispered into her burnt wood scented curls. "I wanna tell him I'm sorry."

"You can do that, " she nodded, massaging soothing circles against his back with her palm. “But you don’t have to do it right away……and…..you have to be prepared for him to not know what to do with that information.”

Patrick nodded against her shoulder…..his eyes flicked up towards Kevin’s house.  
So this was where he’d been….this was where he’d chosen to lick his wounds…and maybe Tanya was right, maybe he wouldn’t make it easy on Patrick….maybe he deserved that?  
Tanya released him and held him at arms length, her almost empty mug clasped in her left hand at his shoulder. “You OK?” she asked, scanning his features as he nodded, “OK that I told you and those fuck buddies didn’t?” she grinned.

Patrick snorted, wetly and wiped his hand across his face, “Yeah….I can see why they didn’t….especially Michael, Jesus he must have crapped his pants when he found out who he was actually meeting at MDG! I’m OK…I’m just gonna sit out here for a while….have a conversation with Frankie here and swap stories with him.”

Tanya released him and swiped up his mug, giving him a quick wink before turning and making her way towards her own deck, “I can see why he loves you,” she tossed over her shoulder, grinning broadly, “Good night Patrick…..you’re so pretty!” she giggled as she petted Frankie on her way past.

“Me or the dog?” Patrick shouted after her, grinning and flinging himself down on the sand, rolling over to create an impulsively excited ‘Sand Angel’ whilst a bemused Frankie looked on.  
He stared up at the clear sky, speckled liberally with stars and groaned as Frankie waddled across and began to drool liberally across the Mad, Noisy, Rubby Head Guy’s cheeks and investigate why he seemed to be doing what the Blond Guy often did on the beach…..namely leaking salty water from his eyes and staring at the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That saucy kink fest between Dom and Michael does continue....and of course Patrick and Frankie are on the beach in the wee small hours....I wonder who is planning to get back to LA in the wee small hours?!?


	21. Looking at the main event.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just pure shower smut with my guyz!  
> But Kevin finds his way home........

Inside Michael’s pristine shower room hands deftly tackled what fastenings remained on their jeans and belts and Dom kicked off his shoes as Michael’s jeans fell to the tiled floor.  
Each man’s ardour was evident and they stripped off their underwear, and Dom his socks, eagerly as Michael leant across and set the water going, returning to press himself against Dom’s waiting body, their erections sliding together as their hands rediscovered the familiar muscles and indentations of the other man.

Steam was rising from the shower and Dom ducked beneath the torrent, lacing his fingers behind his neck, elbows wide, confidently aware that the pose made his shoulders appear even wider and his waist narrower.  
Apparently it was to Michael’s taste and he moaned as he joined Dom beneath the water, the rivulets leaving even darker trails across his chest, much to Dom’s obvious appreciation.

Michael slid his hands across each perfectly sculpted arse cheek and lifted Dom slightly into his body as he felt the warmth of the water send shivers down his spine and raise goosebumps along his shoulders.  
Dom hadn’t repositioned his hands and Michael nudged at his biceps with his nose and mouth, encouraging him to alter his pose and give his body some relief from his dexterous hands, but Dom growled slightly and shook his head minimally.

Michael took the hint and trailed his fingers down Dom’s spine and continued down between his slippery arse cleft, the water helping his fingers to slide and explore down to Dom’s heavy sack before moving back up to locate his puckered entrance, pressing his finger against it, toying with the resistance he felt there, grinding his own stiffness against Dom’s wet thigh.

Dom’s eyelids fluttered open and found Michael’s delectably dark eyes staring back at him, droplets of water on his lashes twinkling like gemstones.  
He gave a growling nod and sucked in his breath as he felt Michael’s finger breach his opening and press it’s way inside him, easing up to his knuckle before beginning to stroke exquisitely into Dom’s eager, desperate hole.

Michael adopted a wolfish smirk as he began to work his finger in and out, matching the rhythm with his hips grinding against the glorious firmness of Dom’s rigid cock.  
Dom’s mouth uttered an urgent groan of need, and Michael covered it with his own, sucking down the sound of his blissful whimpers as his tongue plundered him and urged on his desperate writhing to try and gain some relief for his achingly solid erection.

Michael managed to drag his mouth away briefly in order to issue a hasty, husky demand to Dom, “Move your fucking hand and give me something,” and sighed as he felt Dom’s right hand slip from it’s position behind the nape of his neck and slide down behind him, roughly tugging his arse cheek aside and pressing his digit inside the familiar warm tightness of Michael’s entrance.

The pair were now groaning in unison, sharing the same oxygen, their fingers delving and stroking with practised skill, Dom angling his finger and seeking out the spot within Michael that he knew would make him hum and swear to all manner of deities he didn’t believe in.

The pair rocked together, Dom eased back and pressed a second digit inside Michael and gave a hasty, “Pleeeeease,” as Michael toyed with him before doing the same.  
Dom gave a throaty snarl before beginning to work his hand faster and more roughly at Michael’s arse, feeling a twitching throb to his own cock.

“Michael, I’m gonna cum,” he breathed, desperately trying to angle his prick against anything relatively solid for relief.  
To his delight Michael’s hand found him and the grip that engulfed his rigid length quickly brought about his almost blinding release.

Dom couldn’t be sure, but he thought he’d shouted Michael’s name when he came.  
The man in question was still panting against him and looked so fucking wrecked that Dom turned around and pressed his palms against the tiles, glancing over his shoulder at Michael’s dreamily excited gaze.

“Come on…..fuck while I’m still nice and ready for you,” he panted.

Michael almost sobbed at the prospect, but had just enough clarity to query what to do about the lack of condom.  
Dom’s growled response of, “Finish across my ass,” was enough to satisfy him and he grasped onto Dom’s hips, the head of his cock notching into the relaxed and stretched hole Dom was presenting perfectly to him by arching his back and spreading his thighs.  
Michael softened his knees slightly and slid inside Dom in one long, blissful thrust.  
When he could feel Dom’s arse nestled tightly against his hips he jerked back and snapped his hips forwards again, glorying in the way Dom twitched back against him, grasping his lip between his teeth as Michael’s hips began to pound into him mercilessly and his teeth sought out the back of Dom’s neck, biting down on the raised muscle tone to silence his own noisy groans of delight.

Dom didn’t often choose to take his lovers, but the feeling of Michael’s cock sliding in and out of him was fucking perfect and he wondered why he hadn’t suggested it in their previous encounters.

“Fuck Dom……..oh God you feel so fucking tight….so fucking perfect,” Michael growled and Dom whimpered slightly as he felt a slight swelling to the length thrusting into him before the intrusion was swiftly removed and he felt the increased heat of Michael’s copious, creamy cum spatter across his buttocks and lower back.  
Michael almost collapsed across his back, nuzzling his mouth against Dom’s ear; his breath loud and lacking control.

“Let me take you to bed,” Michael whispered, smoothing his hands down Dom’s arms and entwining his fingers when he reached them.  
Dom’s breathing was stabilising and he momentarily remembered that they were not alone in the house…..or at least they shouldn’t be….where was Patrick?

“I need to check on Paddy first,” he panted as he twisted around and rested his clasped hands in the curve of Michael’s lower back.

“OK……but, I was promised a little restraint and tie up time earlier….so when you get back I am definitely holding you to it……if that’s still OK with you?” and he twisted off the water flow.  
Dom smirked and released him as they dried off using Michael’s cloud-like towels.  
Michael left his on the dark, wooden linen box and sauntered through to his bedroom naked, while Dom wrapped his snuggly around his waist and padded out to locate and check up on Patrick.

Walking through to the living area he glanced out of the glass doors which had been closed over at some point.  
Patrick was sitting on the sand a little away from the embers of the fire, facing the ocean with his arm resting across Frankie’s solid little body, Tanya was nowhere in sight and the lights in her home were dimmed; presumably she’d gone off to her bed too…..it was about 2am now.

Dom was about to open the door and go over to him but his attention was caught by movement on the left of the decked area, there was someone coming out of the property next to Tanya’s and as he walked over the beach Dom froze.

“Fuck!” he hissed, slinking back, slightly out of sight, dithering slightly as to whether to run into Michael or remain as a voyeur…….he heard a rumbling clearing of Michael’s throat and decided to risk it…..Kevin was still far enough away from Patrick that Frankie hadn’t spotted him yet....he had a few seconds!

Skittering on bare feet on the wooden floors he almost ignored the incredibly erotic sight of a naked Michael Firth splayed on his stomach across his bed, toying with his leather trouser belt, and urged the slightly confused and disappointed man to accompany him to the windows.  
“I thought it was tie me up time? I’ve been waiting…..I’ve even got some things ready,” he pouted petulantly, but couldn’t miss the excited look on Dom’s face as he beckoned him over.  
“Can we open these, quietly, and see where the fire is?” he asked, fiddling behind the heavily pleated fabric of the voile drapes to locate the door handle.  
Michael nodded, “Yeah…why? You want to do it out there?”  
“No!....although…yeah!...but......Kevin,” and he pointed out to the beach, making a semi nervous, semi excited squeal.

Michael mimicked the expression and instantly forgot kinky fun time with Dom….for now anyway….and deftly opened the door enough for the pair to poke their heads around without shedding too much light onto the beach beyond.

“Should we be spying like this?” Dom hissed, but was silenced by Michael’s hand at his shoulder, stilling him.  
“We’ll just make sure they don’t kill each other…..then we’ll stop….I’m supposed to be looking after Frankie!” the Englishman whispered, his breath in Dom’s ear suddenly not having the effect it had earlier in the evening…and on those crazy nights in San Francisco…..but it didn’t matter.  
The main event was taking place on the moonlit beach with a million stars as scenery and a soundtrack of rustling breakers.


	22. Looking into the eyes of possibility.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Patrick see each other again....finally!  
> .....but the watch word again with me is 'slow burn'!!!!   
> Frankie is ridiculously cute in this.....feel free to vomit at the sickly sweetness!  
> Sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piece of art I am imagining in my head is a big, slightly abstract cityscape, and the property picked out in white is the location of Patrick's old apartment....and the blue one is Kevin's apartment....the location of his literal 'blues' when Patrick left him......indulge me!

Kevin had landed and grabbed himself a cab, giving directions to his address whilst tapping out a text message to Michael informing him that if he was still up and about he’d drop by for a heart to heart.  
Part way on with the journey however he remembered that his friend would probably be balls deep inside Dom, so he sent a second telling him to not panic as he’d swing by to get Frankie and to just make sure him and his fuck buddy were not in flagrante in the living room!  
The amount of travel was beginning to take it’s toll on him, but his mind was still buzzing, even if his body was flagging. 

He’d have to see Patrick again….he’d have to!   
San Francisco was just too small a community for them to avoid each other, especially when they were working in the same industry.  
He considered whether he should quit at Tru Gaming….but he liked his job…..and the more he toyed with the idea in his head, the more he realised that he wanted this! He wanted a reason for Patrick to see him again.   
He wanted Patrick to see the Kevin he’d given up….and maybe he actually wanted to hurt him a bit by showing that he had been true to his word….and that Patrick could have trusted him….should have trusted him.

Fuck it was complicated!

Stretching his legs out in the back seat of the car he noticed the buzz of an incoming text message…..from Tanya:  
‘DON’T BE MAD……WE LOVE YOU……BE KIND TO HIM…..HE LOVES YOU SO. T XX’

Kevin re read the message and considered whether to ring her or message her back, but he was almost home, and presumably she was still awake so he’d just go ask her.  
His mind instantly thought of his Harley which Michael had asked to borrow….presumably something had happened to it…..but it was a thing…..his friends knew that things had limited importance to him…..Christ, when his enormous framed movie poster of Field of Dreams had been smashed during a rather physical game of Monopoly he’d barely batted an eye, simply sweeping up the debris and replacing it with a similarly sized piece of art he’d asked Michael to create for him…….it showed the San Francisco skyline with various buildings picked out in vivid colours; one small property accented in pure white and another in blue.

A wrecked motorbike he could cope with!

After paying the cab fare he unlocked his front door and deposited his jacket and wheeled case enroute to the large doors leading to the beach.   
It sounded quiet out there, presumably the party had died down early….maybe they were at the smoking and philosophising stage….or maybe he’d be correct in his theory that Michael and Dom had simply taken themselves off to further investigate each other in detail!

He caught sight of a seated figure, the silhouette looked slightly like Michael from the back, but the second figure beside him didn’t resemble Dom.  
His first thought was that he’d been stood up…..poor Michael….surely no guy would purposefully turn down an invitation for further bedtime fun with Michael Firth?......although he had on too many occasions to mention.

He found himself smiling as he wandered across the beach.   
As he got closer he could make out that it was Frankie who was the other form beside the dark haired man; although 'Michael' was wearing a shirt that Kevin didn’t instantly recognise, which looked slightly different to his usual style…..Michael didn’t often opt for plaid, but it surely had to be him because Frankie hadn’t budged from his side….it was clearly someone Frankie felt a deep and comforting bond with.

The moon was fractionally dimmed by some light cloud coverage as he made his way across the more uneven, fine sand, and he was only yards away from the two hunched figures when he realised the voice he could hear talking in soft, hushed tones didn’t sound like his friend.

“……..you need to let him know, I mean…..be on my side….big me up. I bet he talks to you all the time…..probably not as much as I’m doing, but I bet he tells you everything….I would. Oh Frankie…..I got so many things wrong!”

Kevin’s breath caught in his chest, a physical surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm him and leak out of his eyes.

How the hell was this happening?

Why was Patrick sat on the beach out back of his house, cuddling his dog and looking like the most amazing vision of calmness when he himself now felt like a wreck?

Tanya’s message flicked before his eyes.   
Was this the HIM who she was referring to? Urging him to be kind? And not be mad? 

Patrick’s hand was resting lightly around Frankie’s chubby, upright body, his fingertips lightly caressing the velvety softness of his ears.

“…..your ears are so pretty. Do you lick his ears?.....I bet you lick his ears…. Just…..try and make him not hate me….OK…..can you try that for me?”

Kevin almost sobbed as Frankie tilted his drooling, sombre face towards Patrick’s neck and snuffled against it, placing a paw on the man’s shoulder.

Somehow Kevin found himself speaking, albeit in a slightly more muffled than usual manner.  
“I don’t hate you Patrick,” he stated, trying vainly to control his rapid breathing as Patrick twisted slightly and finally saw him.

“Well……that’s a start!” Patrick replied softly, as Frankie got up and positioned himself within reach of them both, his head moving between them like watching a tennis match as Kevin squatted down and carefully positioned his hand across the dog’s flanks, avoiding his head where Patrick’s fingers still rested.

“Patrick, I’m knackered! I’ve been travelling all day and I’ve had 2, 3 hour time leaps so my body is fucked….it hasn’t got a clue whether this is actually real or a dream…..it could so easily all be a dream…”

The thrill of hearing his name on the lips of Kevin after all this time made him feel a little reckless, and without thinking too much about what he was doing he picked up a small, rounded pebble that he’d been toying with on the sand, reached across and dropped it into the breast pocket of Kevin’s shirt.  
“If you wake up tomorrow and find this then it can’t have been a dream,” and he briefly pressed his palm against the broad, firm contours of Kevin’s left pec before standing, brushing the sand from his jeans and strolling towards Michael’s verandah.

Kevin couldn’t help but release a small huff of built up emotion….how many times had he tossed one of those pebbles into the ocean hoping that it would find it’s way to Patrick.

Frankie’s head swivelled and he let out a slight whimper; as if torn between accompanying his new friend or remaining loyally beside his owner.  
Kevin remained staring out towards the moonlit horizon.   
The blurriness of his eyes making for a somewhat surreal and even more watery vision of the endless, inky ocean.

Patrick walked up the wooden steps and briefly looked back towards Kevin.  
How could so much information and reality have slammed into him in such a short space of time?

He considered his history with the handsome man from Romford…..God he was still such a handsome guy!

They’d almost carried out their entire relationship in a similar ‘body slamming’ and intense manner…..if it was a TV show they’d have lasted about 12 episodes max….with a cliff hanger ending to each one!

He wasn’t sure how he’d had the clarity of mind to walk away and get himself back to Michael’s house….every fibre of his being had wanted to clutch the man’s body to him and kiss away every possible fear and doubt.  
But he also dimly realised that now was not the time to have a heart to heart. 

If Kevin felt anywhere near as dumbstruck as he did then there was no way they’d be able to communicate freely…..not yet.

On top of that he had no right to demand that Kevin forgive him.  
No right to demand any kind of relationship with him.  
But he wanted one…..and he thought back to their last meeting.  
Tense, angry, full of hurt pride, damaged promises and possibly reckless statements.  
He’d said that they could never be friends……but considering what he knew about Tanya and Michael…maybe Kevin would actually make a wonderful friend?

And if that was all he could get, then that would have to be enough…..

He flopped backwards onto the large buff coloured couch which was covered with a range of blankets, throws and cushions – none of which matched, and all of which looked well used and rumpled.  
He pulled several around himself and rested his head back against the back of the sofa.  
What a day!

Kevin felt his legs cramping up slightly and stood up, Frankie followed suit and began in the direction of his house.  
“Yeah….OK mate…..let’s go home,” and the pair walked slowly across the sand. 

Once inside his own space again Kevin flopped backwards onto one of the large, grey sofas, dragging a bedraggled crocheted blanket around himself and beckoning for Frankie to jump up onto the low seat with him.  
“Frankie mate…..what am I gonna do?”

Frankie answered in the only way he knew, by settling with his drooling jowls across his master’s belly, eyes cast upwards towards Kevin’s blue ones.

“He seemed to like you……and you, you floozy were all over him! So I’m guessing that goes in his favour!” and he snorted a brief smirk before feeling a couple of tears trickle from the corners of his eyes.  
Sniffing he puffed out his cheeks, “Fuck, Frankie….he’s still so beautiful!.....and I really wish I could hate him!”


	23. Looking at kinky in the rear view mirror!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dom smut time....kinky tie up sex and fun!

Dom and Michael had ducked back into the room shortly after Kevin had reached Patrick on the beach. Much as they wanted to know what was happening they instinctively felt that they should leave their friends to it.  
The excitement at the prospect of a bit of kinky tie up fun had faded for Michael slightly and he assumed that they’d either go to sleep together, or maybe Dom would prefer to return to his own room…..he hoped it was the former option rather than the latter.  
Dom however appeared to have other ideas and swiped up Michael’s discarded belt, wrapping it seductively around his knuckles as he prowled around the bed, catching the expression of renewed desire of Michael’s face.

“Grab onto that headboard Mr Firth……you’re not getting away with dropping the idea of a little bit of restraint into the mix and then thinking I’ll forget it and fuck off to sleep!” he grinned, licking his lips shamelessly and discarding the towel that was still draped around his hips.

Michael almost instantaneously switched back into arousal mode…..what was it about Dom that flicked that switch so easily and quickly for him?

He slithered himself centrally across the bed and impishly raised his arms above his head, resting his wrists languidly either side of his shoulders, against the polished wooden slats of his headboard, “Make it tight…..please,” he pleaded as Dom fed the buckled end of the belt over the cross piece and dragged Michael’s hand into place, adding a rough tug to the knotted leather, eliciting a satisfied hiss from the Englishman’s parted lips and clenched teeth.

Dom moved around the bed, taking in Michael’s stiffness, splayed legs and writhing shoulders.   
He scooped up the other belt, which he realised had been removed from his own jeans and wrapped it tightly around Michael’s other wrist, yanking it firmly into his required position.  
Michael inhaled deeply at the feeling of Dom controlling him; fixing him into place at his whim; removing his ability to escape…….it was one of his most erotic fantasies…and he’d hardly ever been able to act upon it (it wasn’t the sort of thing to bring up as part of a one night hook up….and it had been a long time since he was with anyone in a longer term relationship…)…..somehow Dom felt like the right choice.

Dom was thrilled at Michael’s choice of kink…..he enjoyed acting slightly dominating when given a mutually consensual scenario…..and this scenario was definitely up there for a starting point!

“Stop squirming!” Dom instructed, straddling Michael’s slender, muscled torso and kneeling up, thrusting his stiff erection against Michael’s eager, lapping tongue. “Those two may want to kill us both in the morning…..so let me torture you a little now….just to get you used to the pain!” and he reached back, grasping onto Michael’s heavy sack and squeezing it so that the man beneath him moaned and pulled against his wrist restraints.

“God Dom……still no strings….yeah?” Michael murmured, his head twisting against the pillows as Dom applied a strong grip and, in his opinion, just the right amount of pain to his balls.

Dom smirked at the pleasure which flashed behind Michael’s eyes…no strings?!....sure…why not?!

He released his grip and instead brought both hands around to Michael’s chest, seeking out his small, bullet-hard nipples amidst the swarthy fur.   
He twisted them brutally with his thumb and fingers, making the man bite his lip and hiss a stream of British obscenities as he met and held Dom’s mesmeric, ice-blue gaze.

Michael was writhing beneath the clutches of Dom in absolute ecstasy….a little pain inflicted by a strong, attractive and willing partner was his idea of heaven.  
Dom knelt back and began to stroke himself firmly and rhythmically , his eyes staring sinisterly at Michael as he allowed his own gaze to focus on Dom’s leaking cock and the increased stiffness and colouration that his own hand was causing.   
Michael gloried in the frustration of being unable to reach the other man…..he could arch his shoulders and neck up fractionally, and his legs were still able to move, but, even by bucking up with his hips he was unable to gain any meaningful satisfaction or friction.

“I might just leave you there and make you watch,” Dom snarled.   
He eased himself to one side of Michael’s now almost desperate body and dipped his face to deliver one miniscule lick of the tip of his tongue to the hooded slit of Michael’s cock.

“Oh Fuck! Fuck, Dom! I need…….oh fuck….yeah, that……I need that,” the Englishman’s accent seemed to have become much blunter, each ‘u’ in fuck deeper, and sexier to Dom’s ear….the fact that he was hitching up Michael’s ankles and pressing down on his thighs might have also caused a slight tremor to the dark, haired man’s voice.

Michael’s puckered hole looked completely delectable to Dom’s eyes, his long limbs folded back to open him completely to the blue-eyed, open mouthed gaze of Dom.  
Part of him wished that he had a few more belts or ties available to him….God, how fucking horny would it be to restrain his ankles hitched up almost to his waist like this?!? Although Michael seemed to being very well behaved and willing to keep himself wide open and accessible to Dom’s desires.

“Keep those there,” Dom’s deep voice instructed with a hint of menace that shot straight to Michael’s belly….and his cock. He nodded and whimpered as Dom placed his palms beneath Michael’s arse cheeks and roughly lifted him towards his dipped face.

Michael almost came outright when Dom finally trailed his tongue along his crease.   
He laved a warm strip repeatedly from back to front, his head moving almost savagely as his fingers gripped into his muscular cheeks and allowed him to drive his tongue into Michael’s tender, eager cleft.

Dom enjoyed the salty, unique taste of Michael’s ass and nuzzled deeply into his backside, his tongue seeking out his pliant entrance…..he was somehow more relaxed that Dom had ever experienced him before – weird given the position he was currently holding himself in for Dom and evidently his own pleasure!

Michael exhaled and panted his desire as Dom set to work with his tongue; deeply delving around and inside his entrance, his knees almost bent double to allow him the best possible access….and judging by Dom’s enthusiastic work he was thoroughly enjoying the opportunity laid before him.  
Michael tugged at his wrist restraints – part of him wanted desperately to hitch under his knees and pull them even higher, but he forgot that concept when he felt a hard, firm intrusion at his hole. 

Dom had moved his moustachioed mouth back slightly in order to thrust his thumb inside Michael’s now slippery entrance and watched, open mouthed, eyebrows arched as the man beneath him; the man completely at his whim; rolled his neck backwards and let out a stuttering wail of delight.

“You like that?” Dom asked, smirking devilishly as he twisted his thick digit and made Michael’s stomach muscles clench exquisitely, “You do realise that every tweak of those abs is going straight to my prick?” he added.

Michael managed to drag his eyes back to Dom’s gaze and gave a couple of purposeful breaths, pulling in and displaying his amazingly sculpted six pack – which given his current position showed determination if nothing else.

“Are you expecting a reward for that?” Dom drawled, but he leaned on his unoccupied hand and allowed Michael the almost delirious pleasure of his kisses for several, euphoric moments.

Their breaths mingled in panting, heated arousal and Dom felt his own cock twitch with further desire.   
He lifted his head back, Michael jutting forwards with his chin as far as his constraints would allow, but whimpering and pouting when he discovered Dom had positioned himself slightly out of reach.

“Dom?!......please……I need to cum,” he hissed, his eyes darkly dilated and pleading.  
“Not before I do,” Dom purred, thrusting his thumb slightly harder inside Michael’s rear, his palm cupping his balls and adding a delightful squeeze to ward off the twitching throb to his blood engorged cock.

Dom pushed himself back up onto his knees and began wanking himself in earnest, his digit thrusting inside Michael and his snarling voice insisting that he, “Watch!….watch me cum Michael!”

Michael couldn’t have torn his eyes away, the sight was just too erotically charged and he mentally willed Dom on, his mouth hissing an almost trance like chant, “Yeah, Dom….come on Baby……let me feel it……fucking cum all over me!”  
Dom obliged and delivered several firm flicks of his wrist to empty himself across Michael’s belly and cock, the feeling of which made the Englishman’s eyes close as he fought his own need.

Dom dragged his fingers across Michael’s abs and allowed Michael the exquisite, noisy delight of licking his hot, salty release from them.  
He then leant forwards and whispered a single word in his ear, causing the dark haired man to grasp his lips between his teeth and look down as he began to loose control in quite an alarmingly copious manner.

Dom gave him a few strokes with his still sticky hand and sobbed as they both watched his frankly delectable cock pulse his cum in arcing streaks.   
They fell across his belly, his thighs and reached as high as his nipples once Dom’s hand became involved.

Satiated and gasping the pair slumped against one another, their lips seeking out the reassuring heat and wetness of the other.  
Dom reached up and deftly released the knotted belt which continued to ensure Michael was attached to his headboard.  
The Englishman growled and wriggled his shoulder as the tension in his muscles eeked through to his fingers, but he seemed unable to wipe the grin from his face.  
He reached across himself and unclipped the buckle on his own belt which was restraining his other wrist.

“You, Mr Basaluzzo are very, very bad for me…..in the best possible way!” and he inhaled deeply as their eyes met, and a momentary flash of uncertainty flickered behind Dom’s icy gaze.

Dom dropped his head fractionally embarrassed that he might have given away a little too much…..SHIT!   
Why was Michael Firth getting under his skin so much when they’d both made it clear that they wanted no strings fun?!

“Well……this was certainly a lot of fun! I’m gonna take a shower and…erm…” and Dom gestured towards his own bedroom with his index finger.  
Michael bit his twisted lip a little and gave a stiff necked nod.  
SHIT!

He didn’t do relationships.   
He made it clear that he didn’t…..so why was he unhappy at the thought of Dom sleeping in his own bedroom?   
And why was he running over the fact that he’d said ‘was fun’…emphasis on the past tense!?

Dom pushed himself off the rumpled, sticky, but cloud-like heaven of Michael’s covers and swiped up his discarded towel from earlier.   
He took a peek out of the patio doors.

“No sign of those two,” he casually stated and gave a final glance across at Michael who was holding up Dom’s slightly creased belt, his body still shamelessly naked and sprawled in the most debauched manner across the bed.  
As he passed, Dom reached out and clasped the leather, Michael gave it a slight tug, not instantly relinquishing his grip on it.

“That was…..it was good,” he almost whispered, his eyes firmly focussed on Dom’s hip rather than meet his mesmeric stare.

Dom showered.   
Part of him wished that the dark haired man would appear behind him and insist on either accompanying him back to his room, or drag him back to the bed they had made seriously untidy…..but he didn’t and Dom wandered into his room, pummelling the excess water from his hair with a second towel.  
He realised he was thirsty and looking around the guestroom noticed there was a towelling robe which he put on before venturing out into the main living area in search of either water or maybe bourbon!  
He settled for chilled coconut water from the refrigerator and was making his way back to the sanctity of his own bed when he noticed Patrick, fast asleep on the sofa.  
He was partially encased in throws and blankets and looked peaceful despite his fully clothed and slightly unorthodox position.  
Dom went across and dragged one of the covers fractionally higher over his exposed arm and smiled lightly, “Oh Paddy…..what the hell are we doin’?”

Michael listed to Dom showering.   
Part of him wanted to go straight in there and join him; wanted to kiss him deeply and ask him whether they could forget the whole no-strings thing and drag him back to share his bed…..but another part of him said that Dom didn’t want that….and that part won out!

As he heard the door through to Dom’s room click shut he finally hauled himself upright, stretched out his arms and shoulders and rubbed at the slight redness to his wrists before going through to pee and shower. 

He wandered across to his verandah, still naked and dripping with water and opened the door allowing the sound and warmth of the early morning to wash over him, drying his skin and hair and filling his lungs with the clean, crisp scent of ozone and salt.  
“Michael Firth, what the fuck are you doing?” he stated outloud, before closing the door and settling himself in his bed.   
There was a slight aroma of Dom on his bedding and he realised his nose was seeking it out, meaning he finally fell into a few hours of sleep lying in an odd position, with his head almost halfway down the bed.


	24. Looking at Kevin's interior decoration.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after....some of the quartet decide on a swim to work out their feelings, another goes for a walk and the other....well.....does a Patrick all over Kevin's floor!!  
> Frankie is just the best little matchmaker on the west coast!

Kevin woke up with the sun streaming through his windows, blinking wildly and wondering why it was so bright before realising he wasn’t in bed at all, but had drifted to sleep on the sofa.  
Frankie had remained glued to him and was now grumbling softly at Kevin’s presumption of moving position and disrupting the delightful dream he was currently having involving Blond Man throwing stones into the sea and Head Rub man laughing and focussing all his attention on his ears!  
Patting himself down as he sat up, and dragging his hand across his closely cropped hair he felt a hard lump in his breast pocket.  
Reaching inside he withdrew the small, rounded pebble…..it hadn’t been a dream then!

So what now?

Swim!   
_______  
Michael woke up in his oddly hunched position and winced as he stretched out further.   
His arse was tingling which usually gave him a spring to his step….but the expanse of empty, white bedding beside him made his mood drop sharply.

Fuck!

What now?

Swim!  
_______  
Dom had managed a few hours of fitfully restless sleep.   
Images of Michael, and how he’d reacted to everything Dom had given him flashed in and out of his hazy thoughts and dreams.  
What now though?

They’d done this to get Kevin and Patrick together….they’d apparently achieved that last night…..so presumably Michael would have no further need for him.

He heard some creaking noises from the wooden deck outside his room and knew that it went along to Michael’s bedroom.  
He wanted to go out and kiss him and tell him that he wished they’d spent the whole night together….and also tell him that for him, the whole Kevin and Patrick thing was a pleasing additional element of him coming all the way from San Francisco to be with Michael……who he was fucking crazy about....despite his own intentions to never get involved again with someone who wanted an open relationship!

Instead he rolled onto his back and grumbled at the ceiling.

If he was back home, in his own apartment, he’d go down and clean stuff in the Chicken Window kitchen….it helped him clarify his thoughts….helped when he needed to put things into perspective. Or, he’d call on Doris and pour his heart out to her…..he could call her, but it was too early yet….she’d rip his balls off if he called her and interrupted Saturday Morning Cartoon time with Malik!

He lifted himself off the bed and stretched up to try and get his spine back into place as he wandered across and tugged the pale blue roman blinds aside.   
The beach looked very inviting.  
Maybe a walk with the sand in his toes would have the same impact as battling with restoring the deep fat fryer to pristine condition.

Decided on a plan of sorts he grabbed his casual, knee length cargo shorts and a tan coloured t shirt and let himself out of the bedroom door, directly onto the soft sand (via the narrow deck.)  
He could see a couple of figures powering through the ocean surf, their arms windmilling, face tilting from side to side in an almost matching rhythm.   
There was a small blob dashing around off to the left and a couple more people seemed to be walking or jogging towards him from the same direction, so he inhaled the fresh air and strolled, bare foot past Tanya’s property on the right and continued down towards what looked like a small hub of activity in the distance.  
_____

Patrick had woken up around 5am and dragged himself off to the more comfortable bed where he’d sunk into a deep sleep for a few hours.  
Upon waking he was instantly filled with images and thoughts about Kevin….although to be fair this was not particularly unusual.   
He’d realised several months ago that Kevin was becoming more and more prevalent in his mind….and knowing what he now knew about Ritchie’s new relationship the timeframes coincided….almost as if his subconscious was aware that he could consider a different future than the one he’d been considering.

He had stripped off his clothes and was now lying in the comforting softness of clean but unfamiliar bedding wearing only his striped, black and burgundy briefs.  
His hand flexed at the memory of pressing against Kevin’s muscular pec after dropping that pebble in his shirt pocket.   
He wondered whether he was still hairless?   
He’d told Patrick that he waxed when they’d been together, and Patrick had always enjoyed his smooth, firm skin beneath his palm….or lips….or tongue…  
..Oh Fuck!  
His erection was now evident and needed attention before he could consider venturing out into the living room space and locating coffee.  
The need for caffeine, and the need to wank therefore caused him to get up and hit the shower. 

He allowed his hand to take away the issue of his erection, his eyes closed imaging Kevin’s mouth there instead……Christ, Kevin had given great blow-jobs!

After drying himself down he threw on a pair of casual canvas cut offs and a baggy, pink t shirt showing a Keith Haring print which he’d picked up online.   
He threw a blue hoodie over it and padded bare footed out into the kitchen area.  
He tidied up the messy couch he’d abandoned and found the necessary items to make a jug of coffee and pour himself a mug.

His eyes had been drawn towards Kevin’s house multiple times; looking for signs of movement or activity; but he saw none.

Instead he opened the doors from Michael’s property towards the beach and dragged one of the Adirondack chairs a fraction closer to the door so that he could see the beach scene and also Kevin’s home.

It really did look amazing….part of him wanted to creep over and peer inside.   
One of the things he had realised since breaking away from him was that he’d never really, truly known much about Kevin’s tastes.  
He’d mentioned it when they’d moved in….he didn’t know his stuff…and the Kevin Costner poster had been slightly alarming….but there had been no time to get used to anything else.  
What colours did he like?   
What style did he go for in furnishings?

He’d always assumed he’d like sleek, gadget related stuff, ultra modern, glass and chrome….but that was only based on his reaction to his San Francisco uber modern apartment and ‘Bed-gate’!

The thing is, the exterior of Kevin’s Malibu home looked nothing like that.

He stared off down the beach; a couple of joggers ran by and raised a cheery hand in greeting; there were a couple of heads and arms bobbing around in the ocean off towards the left, and twisting his head he saw a lone figure in the distance making his way towards what looked like a small beachside café.

His thoughts drifted to where he’d been sat just a few hours earlier; next to the foamy waves, staring at the ocean and the stars; and Kevin had appeared….like a vision.   
All of the information he’d received prior to that had played havoc with his equilibrium, but somehow the feeling of Frankie’s soft, velvety ears and his non-judgemental, panting face had managed to soothe him.

“Oh…Frankie,” he murmured, sipping his coffee, “Frankie?!” he stated louder as the damp, sand covered little creature came bounding over the beach and almost leapt onto his semi recumbent form.

“Hey! Where did you come from? Did you sneak out?” Patrick rubbed his ears affectionately and glanced around.

Kevin’s doors were still closed and there was no sign of the man on the beach.

“Oh God!......I should take you back home…..back to Kevin’s house…..it’s right there….go!...GO!” he tried shooing the dog, but the paw on his thighs and drooling chin placed there shortly after made Patrick realise he would need to be more hands on.

“Come on! Oh God, Frankie…..help me out will ya? I’ll get you there and open the door, and then you can just go inside yourself OK? Do we have a deal?” he stated, wriggling to his feet and standing, causing Frankie to trot down the stairs, sensing the possibility of beach playtime.   
He remained clutching his mug of coffee and began walking gingerly towards Kevin’s house.

As he got closer he could make out some of the interior furnishings and he realised he was grinning and holding his breath slightly…..the overall impact of the sofa, throws, cushions and artwork on the walls was of his old apartment in San Francisco.   
It was an eclectic mixture of seriously expensive, timeless pieces together with whimsical scatterings of ‘this and that’….clearly his impression of Kevin’s taste was incorrect – he appeared to like things just the way Patrick did!

He had reached the foot of the slightly rough steps – the paint was slightly faded in the centre treads due to wear…..it was more perfect than if it were pristine! – and he winced as he mounted them.

“Hello? Are you there?....Kevin? I’m just letting Frankie back inside…..he was out on the beach…..OK?” he stated, lifting his volume to carry his comments as he twisted the handle and opened the door fractionally into the house.

Frankie scuttled straight inside, knocking the door wider and making Patrick’s still partially filled mug leap from his hand and splatter across the wooden floor.

“Oh shit!....Shit it, shit!” Patrick shrieked, staring at the mess on the floor.   
The handle had broken from the rest of the mug, but otherwise it hadn’t smashed, but there were streaks of coffee across the floor, some had speckled onto the pale blue paintwork, some splashes had found the cream coloured rug.

Frankie had padded across to his basket and was dragging a large, bright red London bus squeaky toy over to Patrick expectantly.

“Frankie! Oh Jesus……he already hates me, now I throw coffee all over his house….that I haven’t been invited into! Actually…….where the hell is he?” Patrick had realised that he’d been staring at the mess on the floor for several moments – if a noise and commotion like that had occurred in his own apartment he’d have been in there within seconds!

“Kevin? Kevin are you here?....are you unconscious?....or dead?....No…Frankie looks too happy….I don’t know you that well Frankie, but I get the feeling if he was dead you’d at least be a little glum!” he addressed Frankie’s panting face as he dropped the soft toy at Patrick’s feet and bounced on it to make the squeak activate.

“Ok….I’m in here now…..I should at least clean up….come on Frankie, help me out,” and Patrick hesitantly made his way inside, glancing around the interior and locating the kitchen area easily due to the similar, open plan layout as in Michael’s property.   
Kevin’s place was slightly larger, it had even more windows than the Firth residence, and fewer drapes or blinds so it seemed really light in the morning sunshine.  
The kitchen was tidy but clearly well used, and Patrick couldn’t help but run his hands across the counter tops.   
He paused next to an empty glass and lifted it, noticing the slight smudge on the rim which presumably had been made by Kevin’s lips against it…and he growled!  
“Shit Frankie….don’t judge me!” he murmured as he placed it back down and located a roll of kitchen paper which he took back to tackle the coffee mess near the door.


	25. Looking oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you guessed it that Patrick is down on the floor scrubbing at spilt coffee when Kevin appears behind him.  
> They establish where they are in their relationship.  
> Tanya joins the group as they eat Dom's muffins (not a euphemism!) and comes up with a surprisingly appropriate activity for the evening.  
> Patrick and Kevin discover they have always had a lot more in common than they thought.

Kevin and Michael had completed one of their usual swims – out as far as the buoy that signified the drop in the sea bed and back again.   
Their matched front crawl made conversation impossible, but it was soothing and comforting to exercise together in this way and the pair had got used to doing this several times a week when they were both in LA.

As they got closer to the shoreline Kevin looked around for Frankie.   
He was usually bounding up and down the beach, or nestling with his paws on their discarded t shirts on the sand.  
Kevin ducked down when he was within touching distance of the seabed and raked the salty water from his face and hair with a splayed palm.

“FRAN-KIE!” he shouted, his eyes scanning the beach for signs.   
There was no sign of the dog, but a semi familiar shape was approaching with a carrier of coffees and a large pink pastry box in his hand.

Michael began walking from the surf himself, his ridiculously lithe body looked incredible with rivulets of water travelling down it making Dom catch his breath as he got close enough to make him out.

“Morning!” he offered, “Everything OK? Kevin, hi…..I can’t believe you’re Michael’s neighbour!” he could sense Kevin’s tension.

Kevin distractedly answered him, “Dom, hi….erm….I’m looking for…..have you seen Frankie?” he asked.

Dom shook his head and glanced at Michael as he furtively cast his own eyes over Dom’s body and his hands full of goodies.

“You OK this morning?” Michael asked, directing the comment towards Dom and smiling slightly at his nod and quiet “yeah” response.

The trio walked closer to the burnt out campfire from the previous night.   
Tanya’s blinds were still drawn – but she was a notorious late sleeper!

“FRAAANKIIIE!” shouted Kevin, his eyes swivelling around, looking for movement, and only then noticing that the door to his house was slightly ajar.

“Did you leave that open?” Michael asked, following his focus.  
Kevin shook his head and quite boldly leapt up the stairs of the decking, pushing open the door and staring at the scene before him.

Patrick was on all fours with kitchen paper in his hand, Frankie was licking at the wall whilst there was a constant narration taking place :  
“Oh God, Frankie! Will you stop licking the fucking wall…..shit! I don’t know if dogs are supposed to consume coffee….and if I kill you there is no way he’ll stop hating me…..shit! Oh yeah, Frankie….licking my face is not a suitable alter-na-umph-ive! SHIT!”

The final word coincided with a purposeful, and unmistakable, throaty cough behind him and caused him to pause and gingerly twist his head around, meeting the slightly perplexed, but seemingly amused smirk of Kevin….with Dom and Michael’s equally alarmed faces poking over his shoulder.

“I can explain!” he winced, indicating the broken mug, “Michael, I’m sorry, I broke your mug!”

Michael gave a slight chuckle and shook his head, “No worries….Frankie frequently causes mugs to get broken...and plates...and photograph frames….I’ll see you later!” and he turned to leave the pair to what ever it was they needed to do…..he guessed that they had more to discuss based on Kevin seemingly taking out his frustration and possible anger on the ocean during their swim….he hadn’t said much, but his aggressive front crawl had spoken volumes!

Dom glanced briefly at Patrick before following Michael.  
“I hope you feel like muffins!” he stated as he gestured the pink box and glanced up and down Michael’s still damp and slightly goose fleshed body…..Jesus he should not be allowed to wear tight, wet swimming trunks unless posing for a calendar!

Michael gave him a cheeky grin, “I think I’ve worked off enough calories for at least one…..am I allowed to put some clothes on first?”  
Dom arched his eyebrows salaciously, “If you must…..although if I’d bought donuts instead……..”  
The pair laughed at the crudeness of the statement and shook their heads as they went inside, Dom making straight for Michael’s kitchen to locate plates and mugs to decant the drinks into; and Michael going through to quickly shower off the sea water and throw on cut off jeans with frayed hems at the knees and a faded, but clearly well loved t shirt depicting the cover of the Beano.

Back at Casa Matheson the two men were frozen apart from their mouths – Patrick’s was opening and closing in imitation of a guppy; Kevin’s was twisting in a barely concealed snigger.

“Is this your way of getting back at me for turning up and surprising you on the beach?” Kevin asked, a wry curl to his pouting lips and a definite twinkle in his eyes.

Patrick huffed out the breath he realised he’d been holding in and slumped his shoulders slightly, “Maybe you just make me clumsy at breakfast time!”

Kevin’s mind immediately drifted back to the event which was no doubt upper most in Patrick’s mind – that morning after he’d left Jon and Patrick managed to throw granola across his apartment floor.

“No goji berries this time?” Kevin softly murmured.

Patrick felt an almost painful twinge in his heart.   
He remembered.   
They shared a powerful moment; eyes locked, so much being said without words before the moment was broken by Frankie abruptly retching and delivering a stream of slimy, brown coloured phlegm across the wooden floor Patrick had just wiped.

“Oh…..fuuuck….Frankiiieee!” both men shrieked, giggling upon realising their mimicked reaction.

“I’ll get it!” Patrick sniggered, wrapping several sheets of kitchen paper around his hand before making a small ‘yuck’ sound his throat and scooping up the offending result of Frankie’s consumption of splattered, strong black coffee.

Kevin realised his own lack of clothing and stepped gingerly around Patrick’s still crawling figure, “I’ll just get a towel,” he explained, disappearing whilst Patrick swore and mumbled under his breath,  
“Fucking hell…..I’ve just basically broken into his house, and thrown fucking coffee everywhere and made his dog vomit….Christ….could I be any more fucking ridiculous?”

Kevin quickly grabbed a towel and a pale blue t shirt which he was still dragging into place as he almost ran back to the living area to where Patrick was now disposing of soiled kitchen roll in the garbage.

“So…..why exactly were you in my house throwing coffee all over the floor?” he asked.

Patrick exhaled sharply at the almost painfully familiar mischievous twinkle to the blue eyes which matched the shade of his hastily thrown on, and fractionally creased t shirt.

“I saw Frankie on the beach….and there was no sign of you….so I assumed he’d escaped….and I was just gonna open the door and let him in….and…”

“…aaand he barged into the door and made you drop your mug! Yep! Sounds about right!” Kevin smirked and cocked his head on one side as he regarded Patrick’s flustered, but slightly more relaxed expression.

“Yeah! I mean, he’s really, REALLY excited about getting through a fuckin’ door!” Patrick quipped, glancing over at Frankie who was now curled blissfully in one of his many favoured sleeping spots….looking innocent and contented.

Kevin pursed his mouth and nodded, following Patrick’s gaze, “Hmmmm, he’s a weird dog…..but, thanks for looking out for him,” he turned back to look at Patrick. 

God, he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet looking still….his lips looked fucking edible!

“I take it you were one of the bobbing heads in the ocean?” Patrick queried.

“Yeah…..Michael and I use it as a free gym….and it helps me get my head straight when I need it,” he added.

Patrick twisted his now empty hands nervously, having washed them and dried them on the hand towel depicting a small map of Alcatraz.  
“Did you manage to get your head any straighter? At least until you saw me crawling on your living room floor?....I’m sorry…I should probably go…right?”

Kevin however shrugged lightly, “You don’t have to go…..although Dom did look like he had sugary carbohydrate things in a box….which given the amount of energy I burned up in the ocean sounds like a great idea. Wanna come?”

Patrick smiled and replaced the towel on the rail, “I’d really like that, Kevin…..what about Pukey Boy over there?” he flicked his chin towards a snoring Frankie.

“He’ll be goosed, let’s leave him to it and see if we can catch those two doing something embarrassing!” Kevin waggled his eyebrows and grinned impishly. “Good shirt by the way!” he added, thinking about his own similar shirt from the Haring range.

As they walked comfortably towards Michael’s property Kevin inhaled slowly and reached out a hand to tug lightly at Patrick’s wrist, pulling him to a halt just short of the decking stairs.  
He looked down at the sand and composed what he needed to say, “I don’t hate you,” he saw the slightly confused look on Patrick’s face as his eyes flashed down at Kevin’s fingers still resting lightly on his skin, “When I found you in there, you said I wouldn’t stop hating you…..I don’t hate you…I know I don’t hate you……but….. Patrick, I’m not sure that I’m ready to like you……I thought I knew who you were and what you wanted….and I clearly didn’t….so….”

Patrick felt his lips trembling…..what Kevin was saying was perfectly understandable, but he felt like he had something to add.  
“Kevin……I didn’t know who I was, and what I wanted so how the hell could I expect you to? All I know is that I liked you…back then….I really liked you….. I don’t think I liked ME….and I think maybe, I blamed you for making me turn into someone I didn’t like….and actually that wasn’t true.”

Kevin nodded sagely, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his rapidly drying, baggy swim shorts.  
“Well…..how about we try just getting to know who we are now then?…..and since those two appear to be both decent and in possession of what look like muffins, shall we go and join in?”

Patrick gave Kevin one of his million dollar, knee trembling smiles, (a smile that almost made Kevin forget his plan to take things slowly and see how things would work out) and opened the door from Michael’s verandah as Kevin amusingly announced,  
“OK….put him down…I know exactly where he’s been Dom and that ocean can only clean off so much!”

The quartet spent the next couple of hours engaged in playful banter, eating ridiculously good muffins and drinking coffees.  
All four secretly thought that it was an almost perfect way of spending a Saturday morning.

Michael’s usually pristine hair dried without product into a soft, feathery wave at the nape of his neck.

Dom’s eyes seemed to match the sparkling blue of the sky behind his head and Michael’s spent a lot of time comparing the two.

Kevin’s heavily muscled biceps and shoulders shook repeatedly in mirth as he laughed more than he had done in months – something which didn’t go unnoticed by his English friend.

Patrick ate too many muffins….mainly because Kevin kept encouraging him to try mouthfuls of each new flavour that appeared from the box, and each mouthful was torn from each muffin with Kevin’s beautiful fingers and passed across the counter top with a twinkling shared meeting of eyes….once with a tantalising brush of fingertips.

And when Tanya ambled in around midday, looking like ‘A poor man’s Meryl Streep’ according to Michael, the five comfortably slipped into a leisurely lunch made from various dishes and items scrounged from the trio of refrigerators and store cupboards.

Dom found a quiet moment with Patrick at one point.  
“Are we OK? You’re not angry at me…..I mean I knew about Kevin living next door to Michael…..but I also knew about him not being with Jon and you not being with Ritchie…and I just want you to be happy Paddy!” Dom stammered.  
Patrick however, clasped his friend firmly in a powerful hug, “It’s good…..what you did…..it’s good!......but I’m under no illusions that I was definitely the secondary element to this trip…..you and Mr Firth….sittin’ in a tree…..?!?”  
“Fuck you! It’s casual….no strings!” Dom responded as he caught Michael’s penetrating gaze on him before he swept it away and he fussed with some salad leaves.

Michael found a quiet moment with Kevin at one point.  
“Are we OK? I mean….I obviously had a little hand in getting Dom to ask Patrick down here….but in my defence you were supposed to be away until tomorrow!” he stated, grimacing at Kevin’s stern expression.  
Fortunately it was one of Kevin’s double bluffs, and he almost instantly broke into one of his cheeky grins, “Michael….it’s OK…we’re OK. I mean if you’d been around when I walked straight up to him last night on the beach thinking it was you I might not have been so understanding! But….it’s fine…actually, no….it’s good….I’ve missed him a lot more than I think I was willing to admit…..although I am under no illusions that he was just a decoy to get Big Bad Dom down here and into your bed!”

“Fuck you! We’re no strings…he didn’t even sleep in my bed last night actually!”

“Shit! The Firth finally losing his mojo?” Kevin sniggered, feeling the tense bristle to Michael’s slicing of mango.  
“I’m not losing my mojo! We fucked….he just didn’t stay,” Michael hissed.  
Kevin assumed a more sincere expression and tone of voice, “And that has pissed you off? Er…..Michael….that is usually your idea of a perfect Friday night!”  
Michael tossed the knife into the sink and sniffed, “Well….it is…..I just….,” his voiced trailed out.  
Kevin said nothing more, but raised a single eyebrow and gave his friend a slap on the shoulder enroute to taking a glass of iced tea to Tanya.

The morning had eased into a leisurely lunchtime and it was mid afternoon before any of the group started to consider the evening ahead of them.  
It was Tanya’s online search that bore fruit when she shrieked and made multiple hand slaps to Michael and Kevin’s thighs and shoulders before announcing:  
“Melrose Rooftop Theatre! Double beanbag seats! And they are showing…..THE classic!” and she swivelled around her phone to reveal the unmistakable movie poster to The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

“Oh my God!” Michael squealed and pummelled Kevin’s arm; Kevin wagged his finger at his friend and shook his head.  
Dom and Patrick were shown the same image and had similar reactions; Dom grinning and pointing his finger at Patrick as he pulled a pillow across his face and made inaudible noises.  
“Paddy is a bit of a Rocky savant!” Dom explained.

“No way?!? So’s this one! He knows every line!” and Michael pointed at Kevin who was beaming at the praise.

Tanya was busy tapping away on her phone, presumably securing tickets and making an almost glib humming noise at her brilliance…albeit without being aware that either Kevin or Patrick had any interest in the movie!

Kevin and Patrick regarded each other with quizzical, expressions:  
“You never told me…”  
“How come we never discussed this?”  
“….I can’t believe….”  
“I thought Field of Dreams was your favourite?”  
“….yeah, well it’s what I told everyone….seemed a more acceptable choice…”  
“Hardly! Give me a Rocky fan anyday!…..oh my god…is that where Frankie got his name from?”  
“….you got me! Yeah….you like Rocky Horror!....Wow!”

Dom, Michael and Tanya had reverted to a quiet, observing audience to the single phrase back and forth conversation between their friends.  
“Do they realise they are giving each other heart eyes?” Tanya whispered.  
Dom and Michael wrinkled their noses and shook their heads, “They’re oblivious!” the Englishman hissed in response.   
Dom added, “They don’t seem to have any idea how obvious they are…..they’re crazy about each other!”  
Tanya flashed her eyes between the two men either side of her and gave a sniff …yup….oblivious!


	26. Looking at the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dom are still dithering about the nature of their relationship and their feelings for each other.  
> Kevin is trying to work out why, despite loving Patrick still, he hasn't grabbed him and kissed the fuck out of him!  
> ....[it is clearly because I have a scribbled plan which he is unaware of yet!]

“OK, so I’ve booked us the dinner VIP experience, so we need to be there for 8pm….shall we Uber?” she announced.  
There was general agreement and Kevin, realising the time, remarked that he really should get some boring housekeeping type stuff completed; like laundry and dry cleaning.

After he had departed, with Tanya accompanying him in order to tackle the grocery store and some emails relating to her campaign for health care provision and insurance for those suffering from mental health issues, the trio in the Firth property cleaned up and stacked dishes in the machine before Michael and Patrick checked up on emails and Dom phoned through to the chicken window to check up on things and make sure an order of garlic and paper drinking straws had been placed and received respectively.

Dom gave a call to Doris as well and answered her crude and blatant questions regarding his interaction with Michael’s backside and tongue; and Patrick’s reaction to Kevin’s unexpectedly early appearance.   
Doris was of the opinion that Michael Firth was clearly teetering on the fence of the whole “No strings my flabby ass” concept, and she had told Dom to make it clear what he wanted before he left the next day.  
Dom had replied by telling her that if he could work that out he’d be sure to pass it onto the sexy Englishman!

He went out onto the narrow deck adjacent to his room and slowly sipped his way through a beer and a bottle of water as he tried to figure out exactly what his feelings were for Michael Firth.

Nearing the bottom of the beer, and still no clearer to a plan, or firm description of his emotions he was joined by the languidly lean form of Michael.   
The dark haired Englishman came through the doors to his bedroom and rested his elbows against the wooden balustrade, glancing across furtively at Dom’s relaxed position, his bare feet propped up on the same wooden rail.

“Kevin and Patrick seem to be getting along pretty well….all things considered,” he stated, averting his eyes out to the horizon as Dom glanced across at him.

Dom tried not to stare open mouthed at the amazing body and profile facing him….Jesus, Michael Firth was fucking gorgeous, and he really liked him!

“I think they’re both being pretty mature about things…..maybe they’ve come to terms with their feelings since their last meeting….or maybe they just don’t have the same feelings anymore?” he pondered.

Michael twisted his neck and pouted at Dom, “You don’t believe that do you? I thought you said Patrick was still crazy about him? And I’m damned sure the reason Kevin hasn’t ever taken me up on my many, many offers to fuck him through his mattress if because he still wants Patrick!” 

Dom now didn’t bother to hide his open mouthed gasp….but of course Michael would have tried to fuck Kevin….he himself had tried to fuck Patrick in the past!

“I still think they have feelings…..but sometimes that isn’t enough! I mean….they have no idea if they want the same things…..they have a hell of a lot of history to unpack and sort through,” he shrugged as Michael fixed him with an incredibly penetrating stare.

“Yeah…I suppose that’s the crappy part of relationships……all the figuring out what the other person wants and needs….and then feeling obliged to give it to them,” he swallowed and flicked his sombre expression out towards the ocean again, “S’why casual’s a simpler option! I’m gonna shower, if that’s OK….or you can use it first.”  
Dom chewed his lip and narrowed his eyes fractionally, “No….you go first…..I’d rather stay out here a little while….a little solitude,” he stated, downing what remained of his beer and turning his body purposefully away from Michael’s doorway.  
Michael gave Dom’s suddenly tense looking body a final glance before he went inside.   
Shit!   
He was gorgeous…..he looked like he fucking belonged on that chair on his deck, and he wanted to run his hands through the soft, silvery curls which were blowing in the light breeze…..oh shit…..casual….they agreed casual….he’d just said it again and Dom hadn’t disagreed….so they were definitely casual.  
Fuck!

Kevin worked through his unpacking, laundry and dropping off and collecting dry cleaning, as well as taking a prolonged drive along the coast in his beloved F type Jaguar.   
Frankie loved the opportunity to rest his chin on the doorsill and let the warm LA breeze ruffle his jowls and ears; and Kevin loved the opportunity of playing music loudly and blotting his thoughts out of his mind…..although on this particular occasion he wasn’t being very effective in the latter….given that every second image in his mind or thought in his brain was about Patrick Murray.

Patrick was still the person he loved more than anyone he’d ever known….but he hadn’t been lying when he told him that things couldn’t just flick back to how they had been between them.

When Patrick had argued with him on the day they’d been supposed to move in together and start their new life he had told him that he couldn’t trust him anymore….all because he’d been honest enough to tell him about his relationship with Jon and suggest that they have a discussion about their own future.

He’d told Patrick then that he didn’t want the discussion there and then; with the heat of anger between them, and when they both needed to explain themselves clearly and without the remnants of Brandy Alexanders and fucking Bourbon Punch seething through their systems.  
Kevin had been willing to say or do whatever it was that Patrick wanted.   
The whole idea of the open and honest relationship was because he assumed Patrick wanted that – especially after his interest in the ‘Stepford Boys’ party antics.  
He hadn’t wanted that with Patrick!

He had wanted exclusivity with him!

And he’d been more than willing to give him that, and to share that with Patrick…..not with Jon, because Jon was not ‘the one’…..not that he’d been able to explain that to Patrick of course.

But, since that brief and frankly disastrous reunion, Kevin had taken the decision to be completely honest with himself, and consequently with the people he cared about. Hence when Jon had confronted him about his meeting with Patrick he’d told him sincerely that he’d argued, but also told him that he’d wanted much more with him, and that he still loved him.   
Jon had asked what would happen if Patrick called up and said he wanted Kevin back….and he’d told him, honestly and openly, that he’d run straight back in a heartbeat.

So why the fuck was he wobbling now?

Patrick had been sat talking to his dog on the beach, in the wee small hours….looking gorgeous, and sweet and totally perfect….and he’d so badly wanted to take his face in his hands and kiss the fuck out of him.

Why hadn’t he?

And why hadn’t he earlier on when he’d been faced with his perfectly caressable arse on his hallway floor.   
He’d wanted to lift the guy up bodily and throw him across the sofa, kissing him and whispering to him that he loved seeing him in his space, surrounded by his ‘stuff’.

On numerous instances as he’d fed him muffins across Michael’s counter top Kevin had found himself wanting to reach out and touch Patrick’s hand, or his cheek, or his lips, or his arse that time he’d dropped a teabag on the floor and bent over to scoop it up.

And now he had an evening to prepare for….an evening curled up on bean bags, with blankets and popcorn….and Rocky Horror…..and then a Sunday with him leaving and returning to San Francisco….where he needed to open a new set of Tru Gaming offices.

For some reason Kevin found himself revving the engine of his 2 seater convertible and grinning widely as he drove himself back home.  
Things seemed hopeful.....and a little hope was a wonderful thing!


	27. Looking at a bag of Brach's Caramel Corn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, our little quintet go off for the evening.  
> Kevin and Patrick share a very brief moment in the back of their Uber, and Kevin's feelings for Patrick begin to unravel a little....he can't hold them back for long!  
> The final scene of this chapter is meant to show how Kevin now has a 'friendship group' around him, in the same way that Patrick did in the series......so Kevin is much more like Patrick than he thought!  
> ....oh, and Dom and Michael still need their heads knocking together!

At a little before 7.30pm Tanya appeared on Kevin’s deck, dressed casually but smartly in dark jeans, zipped up suede boots and a long, flowing shirt over her form fitting navy vest.  
“Woah….looking good Mrs!” he stated, with a low whistle of approval as he invited her through to leave via the front door of his property. 

The 2 Uber vehicles had already arrived and Patrick, Dom and Michael were waiting, all looking dapper and relaxed, although Patrick’s eyes had widened and he’d had to stifle a groan at the appearance of Kevin in his flat fronted, faded jeans, boots and dark, charcoal coloured shirt which he was fidgeting with.

“Are you on the pull Tanya?” Michael asked, sliding his arms around her and threading his fingers languidly through her gloriously tousled loose waves of hair.  
“Michael, you know I’m only interested in YOU…if you turn straight and decide that these babies do it for you,” she placed his palms on her breasts and gave him a lingering, but chaste kiss on the lips; making him growl and squeeze at her tits raucously.  
Releasing her he placed his palms to his own pecs and pursed his mouth in contemplation.

“No way are you gonna say yours are bigger!” Tanya squealed as she made her way around to the far side of the first vehicle and gave a friendly, “Hi!” to the driver.

Michael grinned and squeezed at his own chest, “Not bigger no….firmer maybe…although I think the king of the pecs is Kevsie Boy!”

Kevin drew the unfastened sides of his shirt apart and rolled his shoulders forwards, making his already bulging pecs even more obvious.  
Patrick was instantly taken back to their shared ‘afternoon delight’ in the early part of their affair….Kevin had squared himself up in bed before refusing to perform his Take That dance……that image of his gloriously muscled pecs though was engrained on Patrick’s memory and he stifled a whimpering moan.

Michael grabbed out and made an animalistic growl as he cupped and squeezed Kevin’s firm flesh.  
“Oh God….Kevin! Why do you keep saying no to me?!” Michael whined and flashed a quick, reassuring grin towards Dom’s amused face.

“Get in the car Firth!” Kevin quipped, before realising that he’d automatically got into the back seat of the second Uber, next to Patrick whilst Dom, Tanya and the insatiable Mr Firth took up positions in the lead car.

“Why do you keep saying no to him?” Patrick mischievously asked, casting a sexily innocent side-eyes glance at the man beside him.

Kevin inhaled deeply, “Because…..” and his voice drifted out as they began to follow the vehicle in front, “…..because……I don’t like beards….and I’m not really into hairy chests…..and…..and he’s not you.”   
He whispered the final word so softly that Patrick couldn’t be completely sure he’d heard him correctly.  
Kevin however placed his hand over Patrick’s which was resting on the back seat between them and gave it a fractional squeeze, despite his eyes remaining focussed on the back of the driver’s seat.   
Patrick stared between Kevin’s profile and their hands; he had no time to twist his palm around, or entwine his fingers with Kevin’s before the Englishman had moved his hand away.

Patrick didn’t miss the fact that he clasped his fingers into a fist before releasing his hand and resting it against his thigh.

That brief, small, purposeful moment of skin on skin contact had been like a reboot signal to Kevin’s emotions.  
He sat trying to control his breathing.   
The space inside the car suddenly seemed filled with the fresh, subtle scent of Patrick’s aftershave and it was unravelling the tightly laced strings on his heart.

It wasn’t long before they were pulling up at the Melrose theatre.   
Their dinner reservation meant that they were seated at a booth table – Kevin and Dom on one side with Patrick, Michael and Tanya facing them.  
They gave their orders and sat sipping Mai Tai’s and beers, chatting about various topics, including Tanya’s work connected to helping people imprisoned due to mental health issues – surprisingly it wasn’t a down beat conversation at all, and the 5 of them discovered they had shared views on the subject.

Their food choices were all excellent when they arrived, and pleasing noises ensued together with forkfuls being passed across and down the table.   
It gave Kevin and Dom a ridiculous thrill when each presented their fork to the man seated opposite them and they wrapped their lips around to try the different meal choice.

“Oh fuck! I didn’t think this through did I?” Tanya snorted, “You may as well have slid your cocks across the table towards their drooling mouths,” she mumbled to Michael as raucous laughter engulfed the table.

Michael cleared his throat and pressed a noisy, wet kiss to Tanya’s cheek (earning a vocal retch from the female!) although he took the opportunity of hissing a whispered comment, “I fucking wish!”

They ordered desserts and more drinks and enjoyed sharing stories from their pasts – each adding enough back story and detail to ensure nobody felt left out.   
It was interesting for Kevin and Patrick to find out stuff about each other that was new, and Michael basically wanted to read a book about Dom; so he soaked up any tiny factlet of new information like a sponge, without realising that Dom was being equally absorbent with details about him!

Kevin kept glancing at his wrist watch as the plates were cleared a couple of hours later and tutted petulantly when Michael called him out, “I just don’t want to miss the opening credits!” he whined – his Romford accent becoming more noticeable and pronounced when he was complaining!

Dom expressed a need to pee, and Tanya insisted she and Patrick selected as much candy and popcorn as they could carry; which left the two Englishmen settling the bill and a gratuity before making their way up to the roof terrace where the screening would take place.

Tanya had secured them bean bag seating; which consisted of 3, enormous square shaped bean bags, each with a large blanket draped across it.  
Michael narrowed his eyes and regarded Kevin whilst there was nobody else around, “OK, so? You and Patrick? Will you be wanting to share a bean bag, or are you definitely wanting space between you? Cos if that’s so we should work it out now,” he stated practically.

Kevin gave a rueful curl of his lips and a slight twist of his neck, “Look, nothing is going to happen this evening….or even this visit, OK?! Despite the fact that I’d like to wrap myself around him and cling on like a fucking limpet!” he almost whimpered, “I’m more concerned that I don’t want Tanya to feel like a bloody gooseberry all night….and I think us two pairing off would be pretty insensitive…….I mean, I’m assuming you have limited interest in the film and just want to play hunt the Milk Duds with Dom?!”

Michael tutted and affected an expression of mock outrage, “I’d like to watch the film, thank you very much……but cuddled up next to Dom to do that is quite high on my wishlist!” he grimaced as Kevin pulled a face back at him.  
“You really like him don’t you?” he nudged, “Tell him!”

Michael however shook his head and used his fingers to signify the end of the conversation as Dom appeared with Tanya and Patrick in tow…who appeared to have purchased one of everything on the refreshments concession!

“You do realise we have to get up out of the bean bags after the film!” Kevin smirked, but his face softened slightly as Patrick waggled a bag of Brach’s Caramel Corn in his direction, “Oh my God! I love that stuff!” he sobbed, grabbing out as Patrick playfully lead him over to their seating before allowing him ownership.

“Well, we’re sharing because it’s one of my favourites too and it was the last bag!” Patrick stated as Tanya flopped down and wriggled to get comfortable on the central bean bag.   
Kevin took the place beside her with Patrick on the bean bag beside him, leaving Michael to settle down on Tanya’s free side with Dom beside him.  
“This OK?” he asked, and was rewarded with Dom grazing his knuckles against Michael’s firm thigh and offering a brow raised nod and a breathy, “Yeah!”

Tanya passed along boxes of Jelly Beans, Hot Tamales, M&Ms and Twizzlers and snuggled against Kevin’s comforting body, “This is really nice, guys,” she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE Brach's Caramel Corm...it costs a small fortune to buy in Britain as it is imported....but I don't care!


	28. Looking at Rocky's gold lame hotpants.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They watch the film......and get comfy on those bean bags!  
> Tanya does a little bit of 'choreography' which naturally has an effect on Kevin and Patrick!

The sun was beginning to go down as the screen came on to signify a brief period before the main showing would commence, which basically gave people time for bathroom visits and ensure their phones were switched to silent mode.

On their return they took up the same seating positions, but Tanya moved across slightly, meaning that Kevin and Michael were both more fully seated on the same bean bag as Patrick and Dom respectively, and each missed Tanya’s small chuckle as she heard them query whether the other person was “OK?” and “Comfy?”  
She in turn snuggled under her blanket and smiled broadly at the idea that 2 of the most special people in her life were possibly finding, or rekindling, love beside her.

She on the other hand was in a deeply personal and satisfying relationship with her Hershey kisses!

Patrick was feeling slightly emboldened by alcohol, and slightly light headed given his proximity to Kevin’s warm, firm and familiar body beside him.   
It was an old familiarity, like finding a lost pair of gloves stuck in the pocket of a forgotten jacket.

They were alternately rummaging in the bag to retrieve the weirdly shaped gummies flavoured of sweet caramel before chewing and smacking their lips contentedly.

“So…are you a Dr Frankenfurter fan or a Rocky guy?” Patrick asked dark orange section from his piece of ‘corn’.

Kevin reached for a further candy from the bag and rolled it in his fingers before answering, “Well….Rocky is fucking hot! And when he’s peering down at Janet…..then I am definitely a Rocky fan,” he sniggered and popped the sweetie between his teeth and bit down, maintaining the playful gaze between them. “How about you?”

Patrick loved the fact that at this close range Kevin’s lips pursed together perfectly when he said ‘you’.   
He couldn’t prevent flicking his gaze down to Kevin’s mouth, an action which Kevin definitely spotted and reacted by briefly flashing his blue eyes towards Patrick’s parted, pink lips.

“Rocky in those lame hotpants is definitely high on my fantasy fuck list!” he stated, his eyes dragging back to Kevin’s mouth, which was twisting into a delicious looking grin.  
The Englishman bent over slightly; the scent of his fresh cologne hitting Patrick’s senses like a punch to the gut before he whispered softly, “I love him in the black basque at the end!....and I can’t necessarily promise to keep things pre-watershed under this blanket!” 

The piece of Brach’s Caramel Corn in Patrick’s mouth was masticated within an inch of it’s life in an attempt to stifle the whimpering growl in his chest.

Michael was very much more ‘comfy’ and relaxed.  
The small strings of lights were dimmed and the screen sprang back to life.   
He was nestled beside Dom, the large beanbag meaning that their bodies had no choice but to roll together. Their thighs were pressed against each other, the fleece blanket draped across their waists meant that when Dom slid his hand beneath it he was able to stroke along the firm musculature below, his palm coming to rest at the crease of Michael’s hip, his fingers tantalisingly close to discovering the aroused state of the Englishman.

“D’ya want something to nibble on?” Dom whispered, impishly, causing Michael to inhale sharply and tilt his face slightly towards the man beside him who had trapped a red Twizzler between his teeth and was waggling his eyebrows lasciviously.  
Michael grinned as the opening credits started to roll on the film and flicked out his tongue in order to draw the free end of the sugary treat into his own mouth the pair of them nibbling inwards like some confectionary version of The Aristocats.

Before they actually met and bumped noses, Dom bit down and released the small section of Twizzler remaining, which Michael sucked into his mouth, chewing the ridiculous texture and flavour of artificial strawberry.

“You know what this flavour reminds me of?” the Englishman whispered, [he’d tell himself later it was out of courtesy for those wanting to watch the film!].  
Dom felt a shiver run the length of his spine….and the length of his cock…..as Michael’s hot breath teased his neck.   
He assumed that Michael was going to suggest the similarity between the Twizzler flavour and fruity lube or flavoured condoms, but it was nice to play dumb!

He eased his face back fractionally so that he could meet Michael’s intense, green-eyed stare with his own, icy-blue laser beam gaze.   
He continued to chew the candy in his mouth, rolling his tongue across his teeth and lips, and noting with delight how Michael’s pupils flared and he flicked his eyes towards Dom’s mouth.  
“Not a clue,” Dom hissed, “Tell me!”

Michael allowed one of his hands to dip beneath the blanket, his other reached out from where it was propped beneath his chin to tangle into Dom’s delightfully tousled curls, “Maybe I could show you….later…..in my room……or yours,” he stated, nudging his nose against Dom’s jawline and feeling his hand flex against his hip and his breathing hitch in his chest.

Dom knew that he would be travelling back to San Francisco the following day; and although Michael had agreed to complete the work for MDG which Patrick had organised, Dom also knew that modern technology meant that he wouldn’t have to carry it out in the city itself…..so this could be his last encounter with The Firth.

Dom moaned slightly as the tip of Michael’s tongue rasped against his stubbled jaw and tilted his neck slightly, meaning his mouth found it’s way towards the dark warmth of Michael’s neck, “Your room, but….my rules,” he murmured, sliding his hand fractionally and feeling the moment when the silky depth of his voice melted into Michael’s groin.

Michael felt as though his body had been rendered molten….except for his cock which was rock solid beneath Dom’s flexing, persistent and experienced hand.

He knew Dom was going home to San Francisco tomorrow.   
They’d brought Kevin and Patrick back together; they’d agreed to no strings; and presumably this could be their final night together…..he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about that finality….but he was definitely sure that he wasn’t going to let those doubts interfere with what promised to be an amazing final night together….his room, but Dom’s rules!!!!!   
Fuck!  
Michael’s deep, barely contained growl was his affirmative response…..Jesus, how long was this film?!?

Brad and Janet had just been stripped of their wet clothes when Tanya glanced across and saw Michael and Dom sprawled nose to nose, fingers grazing shoulders, eyes only for each other.  
She smiled and squirmed slightly over towards Kevin on her left, an open packet of Milk Duds in her grasp.

“Those two might encroach on my beanbag….any chance of a Matheson hug?” she asked, nuzzling her butt against Kevin’s casually relaxed body.  
He grinned warmly and freed up his right arm, “Of course you can have a hug…come here,” he replied, dragging her curved back against his broad chest to be the big spoon to her little spoon.  
“Don’t leave Patrick out!” she admonished, twisting over his shoulder and catching sight of Patrick’s calm and wistful expression as the Time Warp started up on the screen and in their earphones (they’d all slipped a single earbud in so that they could continue talking, although both Dom’s and Michael’s had slipped free shortly after the credits!)  
Kevin shrugged slightly as he relaxed his hold on Tanya slightly, “Tanya, I’m a talented hugger, but I’m not sure I can manage to hug you like this AND Patrick at the same time….I don’t think it’s physically possible!”

Patrick’s ear perked up at the sound of his name on Kevin’s hushed mouth and he glanced across, wishing that he was in Tanya’s position!

Tanya however reached back under the fleecy blankets and located Patrick’s hand, which she tugged across towards herself and left it resting on Kevin’s hip with her own hand alongside it, “There! Now he’s not left out!” she sniffed and nestled back into the warm security of her British friend.  
Kevin smiled down at the fragrant waves of her hair beneath his chin and turned his face back towards Patrick, “This OK?” he asked.  
Patrick was somewhere high above the Melrose Roof Top theatre, his nostrils were filled with the delicious scent of Kevin, which was sparking all manner of olfactory memories for him.   
He was pressed against the perfect, broad back of the man he was still ridiculously in love with and there was still loads of the movie left, “Yeah….I’m….fine….this is….nice.”

Dom and Michael just about managed to keep things legal; although flies had been opened and explored beneath the blankets, and precious little of the film had been watched.  
Tanya, Kevin and Patrick remained in a cosy heap; the arrival of Rocky in his tiny gold pants had resulted in a high pitched whimper from Tanya and a couple of hissed, “Oh God!”s from Patrick (one for the image of Rocky and the other for the reverberated, meaty growl which emanated from Kevin who he was still tucked against!)  
Patrick and Kevin shed their usual tears at the beautiful slow ballad of Frankenfurter as he states his desire to return to Earth and stay…..their shared, wet sniffs caused them to chuckle slightly together, and as Janet crawled amongst the rubble, Susan Sarandon’s amazing voice singing about superheroes, they all shifted slightly; Tanya squirming, causing Kevin to fall back against Patrick, and his hand to rest against Kevin’s rippled abs, and Patrick could have sworn he felt and heard Kevin exhale happily as his head lolled back against Patrick’s cheek.

As the strung lights were turned back on several of the other viewers were singing noisily to the soundtrack tunes over the credits.   
Dom and Michael were hastily rearranging their clothing and erections; Tanya was amusingly grilling them about why they seemed to have so many candies remaining, leaving Kevin and Patrick to haul themselves clumsily out of the beanbags.

Kevin was instantly taken back to that afternoon in the MDG offices when they’d talked in those ridiculous swinging chairs and he’d needed Patrick’s grasping tug to get him free.

Patrick saw his smirk and thought of the same moment, “You thinking of those stupid swing chair things in the MDG office?” he asked.

“I am!” Kevin chuckled, “I liked hanging out with you that time too…no pun intended!”

Patrick nodded, his lips curled and his eyes reflecting what could only be described as ‘raw emotion’. “Does that mean you enjoyed this time?”

Kevin grinned at Patrick, who swore repeatedly as the beanbag became more squashy and difficult to manoeuvre himself free from once Kevin had stood up.   
Patrick grasped the hand that was reaching towards him and smiled up into the familiar, soft and inviting face.   
The touch of Kevin’s hand on his own was like electricity.

“ I did enjoy myself,” Kevin stated warmly, “I like that we both like this movie…and that we both cry at the same part….and that we both get hard as fuck at the sight of Rocky in his gold pants!”

Patrick rolled his eyes, “That was a box of Junior Mints in my pocket!” he quipped, clasping his lip between his teeth and wincing as Kevin waggled his finger at him and moved alarmingly close to Patrick’s face.  
“No…..no it wasn’t Patrick!” he calmly retorted, smiling broadly and showing his teeth; enjoying the blush that was creeping across Patrick’s cheeks.

Tanya had finished picking up boxes of partially eaten candy and shaking out the blankets.   
She turned and caught the end and the gist of the conversation.  
“Well, Patrick…..it was definitely not a box of Junior Mints that Kevin had shoved in my ass crack!.....although it was kinda niiiice……you gay guys….you know, I see the appeal!” she stated; laughter ensued from all 4 men as the context was made clear to Dom and Michael.


	29. Looking for a bit of time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the snuggly movie closeness our boys head home and Frankie is back being all ace and doggy perfect!  
> Michael and Dom become magnetic....in that they are attached to each other!  
> Kevin and Patrick take Frankie for a walk and have a heart to heart......  
> ....and a kiss!!!!  
> YAY! Yes...at last....a kiss.......#don'tgettooexcited!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin's soft earlobe rub on that kiss on the stoop and then that 'final' kiss in the movie absolutely floors me.....I had to have Kevin bringing it back.  
> And yep....I have swapped their reactions to the first kiss idea - Kevin pushing Patrick away rather than the other way round.

On the street level they were still giggling; Dom and Michael had their arms draped around each other.   
Tanya was about to ask what their plans were when she was engulfed by a pair of slim, tattooed arms.   
They belonged to one of her friends from yoga who was en route to a juice bar with a couple of her pals.  
They hastily invited Tanya to join them and naturally the guys ushered her off to join the trio of ladies who seemed eager for her company.

“OK, are we going drinking?” Michael asked.   
He caught the general huff from the other three and they all laughed.

“Is it really bad of me that I just want to be able to find somewhere to sit down while I drink?” Kevin whined.

Dom nodded beside him, “We’re so old! But I’m right with ya! I’d like a beer, but I’d like a seat more!” 

Patrick groaned and nodded sheepishly, “When did this happen? I mean, when did we go from cool, confident gays around town to boring old farts?”

Michael laughed alongside him and slipped his free arm around Patrick’s shoulders, “We are still cool, confident gays around town, Patrick……we’re just rich enough to afford beach front property with comfortable outdoor seating and an extensive bourbon collection now!”

Dom’s eyes twinkled, “Does that mean we are sampling the full collection?”  
Kevin groaned, “Oh God….not the whole collection…Dom, you have no idea how much bourbon and whisky this guy owns!”

Michael slid his arm down around Dom’s waist and squeezed it as he replied, “We’ll sample a selection….some of my favourites, and you can see if you like them too,” he whispered huskily.

Kevin was already on his phone and had an Uber due to arrive within a few minutes.   
He sat in the front seat and the other three piled in the back of the large SUV that arrived.

Back outside Kevin’s house they agreed to his insistence on feeding and checking up on Frankie first, and so all four of them wandered through Kevin’s hallway and front door, whilst a charmingly befuddled Frankie stretched and regarded the influx of giddy masculinity, latching himself onto the ‘Head Rubby one’ and panting in an open mouthed ‘smile’ as the man crouched down and began to rub deliciously behind his ears as he made sounds at him in what appeared to be a friendly tone.

The Blond Stone Throwy one was picking up his bowl and appeared to be putting more food into it, which was rather pleasing and kind considering that he hadn’t had to do any walking or running on the beach as he usually was required to do before getting any….things were looking up!

Dom and Michael had wandered through to Kevin’s living area and were almost slow dancing to some inaudible rhythm only they could hear, their hands resting on each others’ hips, their foreheads cemented together, mouths slack and breath shallow and rapid.

Patrick glanced over and watched them as he stood up….God they were so obviously crazy for each other and trying desperately to hold back!   
He also glanced over at Kevin who was nuzzling into Frankie’s head as the small, squat little dog rested it’s paws on his crouched thigh.  
Kevin was inhaling the familiar combined scents of Frankie and Patrick…..why was it so sexy that his dog smelled like Patrick?!  
Surely that was a weird kink that he needed to shake off….either that or it was the strangest euphemism going!!

He stood up, leaving Frankie to tuck noisily into his supper and noticed Patrick making his way over, a wincing look of almost disgust on his face.

“Those 2 are barely legal through there……how about we take this guy for a walk and leave them to say their goodbyes…I mean, I know I’m sleeping in the other side of the house, but ….” he shrugged.

Kevin smirked at Patrick’s strangled noise and contorted face….he had no idea how endearing and sweet….and sexy he was!

“Good idea,” Kevin whispered, moving to swipe up Frankie’s leash, which he always used when it was dark, the noise of which caused the small dog to briefly cease his focus on his bowl and consider his bladder…..yeah, he could do with a pee!

“Close the door behind you….we’re taking Frankie out on the beach,” Kevin called as the two men and one waddling but happy dog sauntered past the pair who were steadfastly preventing each other’s lips from meeting by grasping each other’s hair and tugging back on it, resulting in breathy growls and whimpers emanating from both as they continued their tortuous ‘dance’, oblivious to their exiting friends.

“Oh my Gaaaaad!” Patrick hissed as they closed the French doors and descended the steps onto the beach. “Were we actually like that…once?”

Kevin nodded and exhaled as Frankie tugged at the leash, eager to get running as Blond Guy usually did with him. “I think we were probably slightly worse than that….once….or twice!” and he smiled his breath taking, twinkling, purse lipped grin at Patrick’s soft expression…..that was making it really difficult for him not to reach out and start copying the antics of Dom and Michael!

Frankie lead the way along the beach, Kevin holding his leash lightly, his free hand stuffed into the front pocket of his trousers.   
Patrick glanced across furtively and copied Kevin’s hands in pocket stance. The breeze was whipping up the spray as well as the soft curls on the crown of his head, making it increasingly difficult for Kevin to remember to be distant and aloof.

They walked in silence until the had left the properties, and the light from their decking lanterns behind.  
Kevin kept his narrow eyed gaze on the horizon.

“Why did you walk away from me?” he asked, sadly and with a pronounced stiffening of his jawline.

Patrick had been dreading having to explain himself.   
He of course realised that Kevin would want to know; that he deserved to know…….but with the benefit of hindsight he knew that his reasoning was not only flawed, but lacking any kind of validity.

“Honestly……..because I was terrified,” Patrick replied, looking down at Frankie as he shuffled his nose into the damp sand.

In the time since their break up Kevin had run through all manner of possible reasons in his head.   
This was a frequently investigated one, mainly because it allowed him to not feel like a failure personally, and also allowed him to still permit his deeply rooted feelings of adoration to bubble under the surface.

“Don’t you think I was? I mean, I was terrified when I tried to leave Jon and failed….I was terrified I’d lost you forever,” Kevin explained, his eyes still firmly focussed on the endlessly rolling ocean. “I mean…..I was terrified when I finally did leave him….and I sat on those steps to your apartment for hours….waiting and thinking I’d blown it all.”  
Patrick opened his mouth to reply, but Kevin continued.

“And I was terrified of asking you to move in with me…..and then terrified of making you angry with me….and then completely terrified when I woke up and you’d gone,” he dropped his head and Patrick could see, in the dim light that he was struggling to maintain his composure.

He’d seen the look before; seen the swell of glistening tears threatening to spill out onto his cheeks.   
Up on the roof of MDG….after he’d seen Kevin with Jon at the market and confronted him….after he’d shared the fact that he’d started to see their future together.

Kevin had not intended to bring this topic up….not straight away……but the evening pressed so comfortably beside Patrick; close enough to hear him humming the lyrics; close enough to remember how he made him feel…...

He swallowed and tilted his chin in a bid to rein in his emotions.

Patrick gasped lightly and huffed out his breath, “Kevin…..please look at me…..Oh, God, you look so sad…..please, please can you let me try to make you smile again?”  
Kevin’s eyes reflected the stars as he dropped his neck back and directed them towards the night sky.

“You did make me smile….tonight…and earlier on when I was driving…..the thought of you made me smile……and it hasn’t for so long,” Kevin explained. 

Patrick reached out and rested his hand lightly on the Englishman’s forearm, “I’m not expecting you to forget the past…..I fucked up….I can’t phrase that any other way. But if we could try to be friends….be like we were tonight….I’d really like that…..because…..I really like you…..I still, really like you.”

The slight flex to Kevin’s hand didn’t go unnoticed by Patrick, nor did the way his shoulders slumped fractionally before he replied, giving a slow and almost nervous nod, “You were always a mystery, Patrick Murray!” that smirky smile…….Jesus!   
How the fuck had he walked away from this?   
How had one misunderstanding got blown up so ridiculously by him?   
Patrick mentally punched himself yet again as the realisation of what he could have had all this time stared him in the face.

“Look…I’m going back to the City tomorrow……you know where you can contact me. I’m gonna leave it up to you, Kevin….’cos…..giving me another chance has to come from you. I once said that I couldn’t trust you, but the truth is I was scared of trusting you and I was even more scared of not being able to trust myself,” Patrick turned so that he was facing the shoreline and made as if to start walking back to Michael’s house.

On an impulse, Kevin tugged at his fingers, halting his intended movement and causing Patrick’s heart to beat so wildly in his chest he was certain it would be audible.  
He twisted his body so that they were incredibly close, their noses almost touching and Patrick’s eyelids almost flickered closed as he felt Kevin’s thumb and forefinger gently caress his earlobe, his treacherously glistening eyes almost overflowing.

Patrick couldn’t stop himself pressing forwards the tiny space required for his lips to connect with Kevin’s, and for a fraction of a second he felt their soft warmth yield to him before the hand at his neck was pressed firmly against his chest to break the moment. 

“Give me a bit of time,” the Englishman whispered, his hand sliding to clasp around the nape of Patrick’s neck.   
Patrick flinched back a little, “I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t have…..I’m sorry,” he stated and dragged his hands through his hair as he turned and made his way rapidly towards Michael’s house and the much needed solitude of his room.

Kevin breathed as deeply as his clenched chest would allow.   
He was reminded of the almost crossed roles of when it was he who had bent forwards and kissed Patrick’s mouth and been pushed away…….his caution had got the better of him in that moment, and the resultant rebuttal of his feelings had left him embarrassed…..but if anything more determined to win Patrick’s heart.  
The shoe was definitely on the other foot; but Kevin wasn’t purposefully trying to make Patrick suffer…..he seriously needed to work out whether he could risk his heart again.  
Patrick had destroyed it once….and small pieces of it had yet to reform completely….but the beating core of it still wanted him.

Frankie was growing cold and slightly restless beside him.   
He’d explored the various smells as far as his leash would stretch; and Head Rubby Guy had buggered off…and now Blond Man was doing his staring out to the sea thing.   
He knew that this usually meant he’d do the pebble, kiss, throw thing shortly and then they could go back inside.

However no pebble was scooped up.

No pebble was kissed or thrown……maybe that had come to an end?

Maybe Head Rub man kissing his owner had cured him of his need to kiss bits of rock?

Whatever the reason for the change of routine they were heading back home.

“Come on, you…..let’s go to bed,” Kevin whispered to Frankie and began a slow jog towards his deck, meaning the small dog needed to break into a trot to keep up…..this was more fun!

Maybe kissing the Head Rub man was nicer than kissing pebbles and made his owner happy?

His acute hearing did pick up some slightly odd sounds as they neared the properties…..possibly another dog in pain?   
Whatever it was he couldn’t investigate….and it was cold…the wounded animal would have to sort it out themselves!


	30. Looking in Michael's naughty drawer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is rude...I mean, even by my standards, this is just really rude and smutty.....I blame the fact that I have just watched Richard Armitage (who is who the Michael character is based on) in Hannibal....and all those images of him doing sweaty yoga in his tiny pants did this to me!!  
> Dom and Michael and their last hurrah.......although both are still having thoughts that are definitely not 'no strings'.....(they are obviously gonna get together...I'm not that mean!)

Michael Firth was draped across one of his wooden Adirondack chairs on the secluded, narrow verandah outside his bedroom….naked and being treated to what could only be described as one of the most sensually powerful blow jobs of his life.  
Dom was on his knees between his splayed thighs with his hands clamping Michael’s wrists firmly to the arms of the chair, preventing him from clutching at his hair, and preventing him from thrusting his leaking cock down the man’s throat as he eased back and teased just the head with the tip of his tongue; dragging out the pleasure and dragging some animalistic, throaty growls from the British man’s mouth.

Earlier in the evening, Dom had been fairly forceful in tempting Michael to leave Kevin’s lounge and follow him to his own property.   
They’d remained silent except for the odd grunt of desire when Dom had been forced to stop at the locked door, waiting for Michael to find his keys and unlock it.   
He’d paused with his hands either side of the door jam, Michael directly behind him, and the initial groan had been caused by Michael slamming his body into him, the full force of his erection grinding deliciously against his backside.  
The second grunt had occurred when the Englishman had reached around and slotted his key into the door whilst slipping his tongue into Dom’s ear and growling the statement, “I hope you’re planning to fuck me,” as he twisted the door open and pressed Dom through.

Once inside Dom wasted no time in shrugging off his overshirt and pushing Michael roughly against the wall.   
Michael’s backside was hitched slightly by a narrow side table – a bowl containing randomly sized and coloured jigsaw puzzle pieces skittered to the floor – and Dom filled the space between his thighs, dragging his wrists either side of his head and almost rendering the dark haired man unconscious with an oxygen sapping kiss.   
His tongue plundered the warm wetness of his mouth and he didn’t allow a sliver of space between them for several, groin flaming minutes.  
When he eventually shifted his chin back slightly, Michael was glassy eyes and panting.

“Your room…….but…”  
Michael gave an almost obscene grin as he cut off Dom’s sentence, “….but your rules………and nothing is off limits….safe word?” he purred, licking out his tongue to catch Dom’s nose slightly with a sexy snigger.  
Dom raised his eyebrows and nodded, pursing his lips, “For both of us then……Hannibal?”  
Michael nodded, his breath couldn’t be any more shallow or rapid….at least that is what he thought, but given the free rein he had just handed Dom….and been handed right back…maybe it could?!

The small nod was all Dom needed and he fell back, yanking Michael by his shirt placket, pulling him and kissing him as they made their way to Michael’s large, beautifully appointed bedroom.  
He moved straight across to the bed and looked at the small bedside cabinets either side of it.

“Which one?” he asked, grinning, knowing that given Michael’s attitude towards ‘rules’ and ‘safe words’ he would definitely have a few little titillating items hidden from view.  
Michael continued his wolfishly confident smirk and went around to the far side of the bed, pulling open one of the small drawers to reveal his stash of ‘everyday extras.’

Dom had toed off his trainers and was crawling across the bed to investigate; smiling as he saw the various lubes with heating and tingling features, a couple of vibrators of different texture and size, a double ended dildo, some coppery coloured anal beads, plus a rather beautiful butt plug which looked like it was crafted from quartz. He also noticed a fruity flavoured lube, which he picked up and waggled in Michael’s direction.

He too had eased off his shoes and socks and was resting his knees against the mattress, bringing his shoulders and torso to rather menacingly loom over Dom below.  
“You remember those Twizzlers from earlier?” Dom asked, flicking the lid on the tube and inhaling the sweet, highly fruity gel.

“I’d need to try this again if I was going to make a fair comparison,” Michael grinned, reaching across and whimpering as Dom squeezed a trickle onto his outstretched fingers.  
He lifted his hand and dipped his head, inserting one of the strawberry covered digits into his own mouth, making a throaty growl and slid the other tilted finger into Dom’s open, welcoming mouth.  
Both sucked and basically mouth fucked one of Michael’s fingers until the fruity product had gone.   
Michael released his first with a noisy slurp and pressed himself further over Dom as he seemed reluctant to allow the firm digit to leave his lips.

Michael tried as best he could to release the belt and flies of his trousers with his free hand – his cock was pressing painfully against the zipper having been hurriedly tucked away after their rummage beneath the blankets in the movie theatre.  
Dom became aware of Michael’s actions and dutifully released his other hand so that the man could quickly deal with their removal as well as tear off his shirt.  
Dom made to start removing his own clothes but stopped when he saw and heard Michael’s clear questioning instruction of “No…..I need to….let me?”

Dom leaned back against the pillows, languidly and relaxed himself as best he could to allow Michael to painstakingly slowly remove first each sock, then his undershirt, then his belt and jeans.   
Each item of clothing was removed reverently, with the single, breathy word of “Perfect,” whispered and uttered as Michael kissed each new part of exposed skin.

Dom was clearly as turned on as hell – his cock was stiff and barely concealed by his boxers - and he could see that Michael’s was similarly aroused, with a small, dark patch visible on his grey, marl briefs.  
Rather than remove his own, or Dom’s underwear, Michael slid himself onto his belly beside the other man and tilted his almost heartbreakingly tender face towards him, “Your rules,” he repeated and let out a hastily shortened shout of delight as Dom quickly yanked the waistband of his pants down at the back, exposing his ass crack and slid his tongue against the tender seam.

Dom delighted in the involuntary arch to Michael’s perfectly toned back and shoulders and pressed his body flat against him, almost planking over Michael’s squirmingly firm musculature beneath him.

“My rules,” he repeated and reached across to remove the larger, softer vibrator as well as one of the tubes of lube which he recognised as being one which became hot on skin contact.  
He eased the fabric of Michael’s underwear down, past his knees and discarded them on the floor as he licked and nibbled his way back up Michael’s long, lithe limbs. The man on the receiving end was clutching pillows to his chest, his shoulders flexing up as he rested on his elbows.   
He stifled his sob of delight as he felt Dom ease his backside apart and flinched as a warm pressure made contact with his hole.

“God Michael….you look fucking amazing. I’m going to make you beg me to let you cum,” Dom snarled, his hot breath close to Michael’s neck as he pressed the widely girthed vibrator inside with the help of a generous amount of slippery lube.   
He contented himself with simply using it like a dildo initially; pumping the 9 inch long item in and out of Michael’s twitching entrance, although the rapid intrusion had made him tense up and he was struggling to make his body accept more than half of the length.

“Be a good boy for me,” Dom hissed, “Let me play with you….be a good boy for Dom,” he muttered in a timbre so deep and forbidding that Michael couldn’t help but melt into a puddle of pleasure.   
His arse relaxed momentarily enough for Dom to push another inch or so inside him.  
Dom stroked his free hand through Michael’s closely cropped hair and tugged on it sharply, causing a further fractional relaxation as he exhaled and meaning that a good 8 inches of the vibrator was now driving in and out of Michael’s most intimate hole with Dom angling it slightly so that each thrust hit against the spot within Michael that drove him absolutely wild and rendered him paralysed with pleasure.

Dom was ridiculously hard just watching the reaction of Michael to his ministrations, and when he tugged on his shoulders and order him, “Up….come on, that’s my good boy,” he gave a shameless sob of delight himself at Michael’s trusting, almost innocent gaze.   
He clearly wanted to please Dom…..and was eager to do whatever was needed to be a ‘good boy’ for his Dom.

Michael gave a slightly perturbed pout as Dom let go of the vibrator, which he still hadn’t switched on and was acting as a thrusting dildo, although it was still firmly nestled inside his orifice.  
Dom silently moved himself up the bed and jerked Michael’s head around to one side, sliding his thighs against his shoulders and beneath him, encouraging Michael’s eager hands around and under his buttocks, his mouth tantalisingly close to the exposed, almost purple head of Dom’s well proportioned prick.  
Michael wanted to reach out his tongue and his lips quivered as he raised his eyes questioningly to those peering down at him, somewhat sadistically…….SHIT!   
Did Dom have any idea how fucking much of a turn on he found that?!

“Are you my good boy?” Dom purred, sliding his fingers along Michael’s stubbled cheeks and allowing his eager mouth to suck them rapturously.  
Michael nodded his affirmation and was rewarded with Dom easing his hips back slightly and removing his fingers.

“Suck,” he ordered, and inhaled sharply as Michael wasted less than a heartbeat in taking Dom’s entire length deep into the back of his desperate throat. His position in relation to Dom meant that he was at the perfect angle to accept his significant size, and he stiffened his lips around the base, keeping his eyes firmly open in idolisation of the effect he was having on Dom.

Dom quickly managed to gather himself and began groaning out his pleasure as he fucked deeply into ‘his boy’s’ perfectly pliant and accepting mouth.

“Oh God….you’re my good boy,” he hissed, earning an almost tearful blink from Michael as Dom thrust into his throat at a punishing rhythm.

Before he lost it completely Dom grasped Michael’s arm and slid himself across his back a little further in order to reach down an snap the switch to activate the vibrator, making Michael clamp his lips around Dom’s cock hard and emit a piercing, but brief shriek.

“You can take it baby……now….let me cum, that’s my good boy,” Dom snarled, feeling himself close to unravelling as Michael returned obediently to his eager, open mouthed position; giving enough tension to enable Dom to really fuck into him and let himself go as he shot his release.   
He pulled Michael’s head back as he was still spurting ribbons of his cream, making several splatter across his open-mouthed groaning face, his tongue licking out to lap at the tip of Dom’s spent, but still solid erection. 

Satiated and still ridiculously turned on by the sight of Michael’s eager and expectant face Dom slid around and tweaked the still buzzing intrusion, angling it fractionally again and glorying in the ridiculously breathy moan Michael released from his tightly clasped lips.  
He pumped the full 9 inches of buzzing plastic in and out of Michael, watching closely as his backside swallowed up and stretched against the firm length, his broad hands were now flexing and gripping against the mattress, the pillows having been spread to the edges and the floor, and Dom couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of his undulating body as he struggled to make sense of the emotions rushing through him.

Dom wanted to very much hold him to his earlier promise….to make Michael beg him to let him come; and although he was clearly as turned on as fuck, he was also managing to keep a grip on himself….by gripping the bed!

“Do you need to cum yet?” Dom asked, varying the rhythm he was using on the vibrator and watching every flicker of Michael’s eyes, jaw and lips.  
With an animalistic growl and heavy limbed effort Michael dragged himself up onto his palms and knees, shaking his head in a manner that was reminiscent of a wounded wolf as Dom continued to thrust and twist the vibrator deeply and purposefully into Michael’s arse.  
He had begun to build up an impressively brutal rhythm and Michael was starting to thrust his hips back into the pressure.   
With no further warning Dom dragged the vibrator from Michael completely, flicked it off and discarded it, watching in awe as Michael’s stretched entrance began to close back up.

“ DOM?” was the single, frustrated word that he uttered, pushing back almost willing Dom to notice his emptiness and need.  
Wordlessly Dom had reached back into the drawer and had removed the smooth, cold butt plug and without any further lubrication slid it into Michael, leaving only the small, ring handle visible.  
Michael was now swallowing and trying all over again to regain control.   
The heat from the lube was something he had got used to, so the cool marble intrusion felt incredibly cold, and the actual design meant that he felt the strange combination of both filled and clamped shut.

His arsehole had engulfed the full plug and his ring was now clasped onto the small, protruding handle, which to his delight, Dom was flicking firmly and mischievously.  
“You’re not begging yet…..I told you….I want to make you beg me to let you cum,” and he ran his tongue across the ridiculously soft, hot skin of Michael’s sack, enjoying the twisting of his hips that ensued.

Michael swallowed again and managed to hiss out a simple statement, “But I want you.”

Dom smiled, almost sadistically and tugged at Michael’s wrist, “Get up then….and go outside. I want you out there.”

The action of standing with the butt plug still in place caused a degree of pleasing discomfort, it also allowed his cock to spring solidly away from his belly where it had been pressing against the mattress, resulting in a deeply sensual growl of approval from Dom.  
Michael flicked the familiar catch on the door onto his verandah and inhaled the balmy night air, although it caused his nipples to instantly harden, which Dom noticed as he turned to face him. 

“Where?......What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice a raspy baritone.  
Dom indicated the Adirondack chair, “Sit,” he instructed.

Michael eased himself down into the seat; the butt plug was difficult to manage, but he slouched lower on the seat and splayed his thighs in an attempt to accommodate the protruding ring.   
The sight of Dom dropping down onto his knees in front of him was enough to make the mild pain acceptable, and he glanced down towards his still raging erection.

“Do you still want me to be the one begging?” he asked, his eyes twinkling as they peered down at Dom’s darkly dilated gaze.  
Dom licked his lips slowly and rubbed his palm firmly along Michael’s inner thigh, watching intently as flickers of even more arousal crossed his face. His hand came to rest around the shaft of Michael’s almost steel hard cock, nestling in the neatly trimmed dark hairs around it’s base.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Dom asked, hoping desperately that the answer would be yes, because the sight of Michael Firth splayed before him with his perfect hard on just an inch or so from his face was just too good an opportunity to miss!  
Michael nodded breathily and allowed his neck to melt fractionally as Dom licked purposefully along his length, teasing his slit with the tip of his tongue and using his hot breath as an added sensation.

When Dom engulfed the leaking head of it into the welcoming warmth of his mouth it caused Michael to make delightfully guttural groaning noises, which became loud and animalistic once Dom slipped his hand between his legs and began to toy with and twist the butt plug.  
Dom snarled and smiled as Michael dropped his hands to drag through his unruly and tousled curls…..he had him exactly where he wanted him……..and Dom adored being there!

Michael pulled at Dom’s head, trying to urge him on….he had been restraining himself up until this point, but now he was desperate to let go…..and much as he hated to admit it, the man between his legs was almost making him want to beg for release.  
Dom knew the affect his mouth and fingers were having on the splayed God beneath him, and he allowed Michael to move his head in a building rhythm but then released his grip on the butt plug and gripped his wrists to the arms of the chair as he withdrew his mouth almost completely from Michael’s cock.

“Oh, you!…….. fucking……..Oh fuck, Dom!” Michael almost cried out of pleasure and frustration.  
How the fuck could Dom read him so well?  
Maybe he really had just fucked a lot of people and was good at it?  
He was certainly good at this!   
He was teasing and toying with Michael’s cock, making the man cry out in a range of throaty and almost painful noises…….which is what Frankie had heard upon returning to Kevin’s house!

Dom continued to lick, suck, tease and caress Michael in ridiculously difficult to anticipate rhythms until Michael eventually relented and called out to him, “Dom……please…….I need to cum….please let me……make me….pleeeeaaasse!”

Immediately, Dom got to his feet and tugged Michael to stand, manoeuvring him quickly back to the bed, pushing him backwards and pressing himself completely against Michael’s naked and desperate body and silencing his whimpers with soft ‘shushing noises’ and kisses.

Michael was almost delirious. 

Dom’s mouth and tongue was slowly bringing him back to control, but his cock was painfully engorged now.  
Dom eased Michael's legs up and with a swift, confident movement tugged out the butt plug and replaced it quickly with his own cock.   
Michael was too far gone to even consider that he wasn’t wearing a condom, but he assumed he would pull out and cum across rather than inside him.

Michael knew he was so close…..he wanted and needed Dom’s closeness; this position brought them face-to-face and meant they could continue their kisses and shared grunts of delight.

Dom had been close to cumming when Michael had finally shouted out his need to do the same, but sheathed inside his arse was a far stronger sensation than he had bargained for after such a tortuous build up; however he could see that Michael wouldn’t need much more, and within a few more minutes of Dom’s hard, rapid thrusting he was slack jawed and groaning as he finally spurted his copious release across his and Dom’s bellies.

Dom looked down and watched open mouthed as Michael pierced him with his green eyed expression of complete lust…….or was it something more than that?   
The thought that it could be was enough, and Dom hastily withdrew from Michael’s ass in order to add his own hot streaks of cum to mingle with those already splattered liberally on the firm, muscled abs of Michael which were jerking and undulating as he tried to get his breath back and tried to stop the lump in his throat and moistness threatening to leak from his eyes from actually taking over.   
His brain was also trying to assimilate the comment that he’d swore came out of Dom’s voice seconds earlier….but he couldn’t ask him to repeat it…..and maybe he hadn’t said it at all…..maybe it had been in his own head.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He’d just had an amazing fuck…..from a man that wanted nothing from him…..it was perfect! Wasn't it?

So why did he feel so sad at the thought that the man who was trailing his nose against his sweat covered temple would be gone a few hours later. 

“That was amazing!” Dom muttered as he struggled to get his breathing under control and stared wistfully at the slightly far away look in Michael’s eyes. “You OK?” he asked.   
Part of him was a little unsure about what he’d uttered upon watching him cum like a fucking freight train.   
He’d called him ‘My special Mikey’……where the fuck had that come from?

Michael managed to nod, but didn’t quite trust his voice not to betray him.   
Dom eased himself off and out of Michael, ignoring the pang of disappointment at the thought that it could potentially be the final encounter he had with that particular orifice of the exquisitely perfect man lying almost in his arms.

“I think I may need to shower,” Dom stated, glancing down and smirking at the sticky, beribboned mess on his silver-back chest hair and moving further to signify him getting up to do just that. Michael however managed to flail out one of his hands and captured the nape of Dom’s neck, dragging his face towards his mouth.

“Stay with me?” he whispered, his lips quivering as he heard the statement aloud in his own ears.

Dom couldn’t tear his eyes away from the suddenly tender and vulnerable man beside him.

Jesus, he wanted him to always be there….he wanted to stay; not just tonight, but forever……but he assumed that Michael just meant stay for the night, sharing that bed…..and if he did that Dom knew that he’d find the inevitable separation the following day even more unbearable.  
So, with every muscle of his body tensed, including a ridiculous tightening of his throat he replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea…..I think I need to go back through there,” and he indicated the bathroom and his own room.

Michael tried, unsuccessfully based on Dom’s wincing and slightly uneasy expression, to mask his disappointment with a forced flick of his lips into a ‘smile’, “Yeah….of course…..I shouldn’t have asked. Just…..erm…..you know, shower, whatever….I’ll wait until you’ve finished,” he somehow managed to get out without his voice cracking.

Having wanted Dom to stay with him all night as a minimum, he now couldn’t wait for him to leave.   
He was really struggling to keep his emotions in check and quite alarmingly felt like he might breakdown and cry at any moment.

But he could swear Dom had called him his ‘special Mikey’…….nobody ever called him anything other than Michael….they never had.   
He was never Mike or Mick; and definitely never Mikey………but the guy currently showering next door had given him that cute little name.

Shit! 

He really wanted to be Dom's special Mikey…..it was sappy and stupid and hinted at serious……but they had agreed not serious….no strings.  
Once you agreed that you had to stick to it or everything went pear shaped!


	31. Looking at a bowl of amazing granola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, I may have watched North and South again and have been inspired a little with Dom actually looking back this time at 'John Thornton AKA Michael Firth!'  
> It's all a bit angsty at this stage....but at least we have a moment of mutual realisation....and they all feel the same....we just have to get them sharing it with one another now!

Several of the rooms overlooking the Malibu shoreline contained men who slept restlessly that night.

The morning sunshine streaming through windows caused groans; pillows to be repounded into shape; duvets to be hauled up to create blissful, dark cocoons and multiple heavy breaths as the various occupants of the various beds considered the events of the night before.

Dom woke and tiptoed through the silent house to Patrick’s guestroom and knocked gently. Hearing a muffled ‘Yeah?’ he went inside.  
“Can we go home?” Dom stated, sadly.   
Patrick saw the look of real emotional turmoil on his face and without pausing beckoned his friend over and flipped back the coverlet to gather the older man’s familiar body towards him.  
“Of course we can, you wanna tell me what’s made you so sad….I mean considering that I heard the pair of you going at it like rampant dogs before I thankfully fell into an exhausted, Kevin filled sleep,” Patrick murmured whilst snuggling Dom’s body against his own.

Dom shook his head briefly and sniffed, “It was good….too good….that’s why we need to go home,” he stated.

“Oh!....OK,” Patrick replied.   
He had wanted to share some of the details of him and Kevin on the beach, but it just felt more like Dom needed him to be there for him. “You wanna go right now?”  
Dom shook his head fractionally and nestled into Patrick’s chest, “No….just soon……when we get up.”

They remained tangled together, breathing and calming each other with their easy familiarity.  
Eventually it was Dom who spoke, “How was it with Kevin? I mean, you’re alone, so I’m assuming not great!”

Patrick snorted slightly, “Actually, it was pretty good…..although I kissed him and he pushed me away…..but, he was right to…..and he didn’t tell me never to do it again, so I’m taking that as a positive!”  
Dom sniggered lightly, despite his gloomy feeling he was genuinely pleased at the thought that Patrick might be happy again with Kevin….then the thought that at least one of them might be happy hit home and he was back into groaning doom and gloom mode.

“Hey? Why are you so grumpy? Did Michael do something? Or say something?” Patrick asked, stroking his palms across his friend’s morning hair style.

“I called him ‘My Special Mikey’,” he stated, adding the air quotes as single, curl fingered accents in such a ridiculously cute manner that Patrick had to suck in his cheeks and press his lips together to stifle his giggles. “Don’t laugh! How the fuck do I show him that I’m no strings casual now?”

“Do you want to?” Patrick asked bluntly, “I mean, I know you’re Mr Chicken Window, nothing’s gonna get in the way of my business’ Dom, but……you seem to really like him. And for what it’s worth I think he really likes you too.”  
Dom growled and rolled over, throwing off the cover and huffing with warmth.

“I fell hard for Lyn…..and he was completely honest from the start about what he could offer….and Michael seems to be the same. So shame on me if I allow myself to get hurt again like that. So?........will you get up and sort your shit out and we can hit the road?”

Patrick nodded and glanced out of the window, looking for any sign of Kevin before he dived under the shower.   
Dom went back to his room, hearing the shower running he used the time to gather his stuff and organise what he needed for the day ahead, packing the rest away into his holdall.

The shared bathroom between the two rooms was teasing in many ways.   
Dom could hear Michael moving around; heard him pee; heard him cleaning his teeth and heard him humming (he couldn’t make out what the tune was, but it wasn’t a happy, upbeat number….which was somehow pleasing!)   
Dom mentally punched himself as he heard the door open and then close, signifying that he was done.   
He went into the room through the doorway from his own guestroom.   
Michael had left the space immaculate with his used towels tidied away in the hamper and even the sink basin had been wiped dry.  
Dom felt inexplicably sad at the lack of personality; the lack of ‘Michaelness’ in the room, but then he noticed that there was a perfectly displayed outline of his arse visible in the condensation on the glass screen of the shower area, and it made him smile.

He knew however that he had to get him out of his mind.   
This had been wonderful….but he knew he was in danger of falling to hard and fast and making a clean break, putting distance between them would be good.

He showered, cleaned his teeth, trimmed his facial hair slightly and dragged a splash of his fresh cologne through what remained before stowing the rest of his things in his holdall and dressing.

Michael had got himself up and ready.   
He wasn’t sure what to suggest they do before Dom left.   
Part of him wanted them to spend the whole day together……alone…..in bed!

He seemed to be the first one up in the house, so he made coffee and grabbed various store cupboard and refrigerator essentials to make a large bowl of his own unique granola, which was liberally enhanced by dried berries, nuts and dark chocolate chips.

Patrick wandered out to join him; clothed and looking remarkably calm given the fact that he’d had the whole ‘Kevin Matheson’ thing thrown at him…..although Michael couldn’t help but think that the pair of them seemed so ridiculously right together!

“Hey!” Michael greeted him, “Coffee and what has been described by many as possibly the best breakfast granola in existence?” 

Patrick smiled back at his amused, and incredibly sexy smirk….Dom was definitely a lucky guy!  
“That sounds great….ahem….it’ll set us up for the road,” Patrick accepted the proffered mug of coffee and saw the brief flash of disappointment behind Michael’s expression.  
He continued after taking a slurp of the hot beverage, “Dom wants to head back….in all seriousness I’m surprised he was willing to leave his precious Chicken Window for this long!”

Michael forced out a smile and a nod of acceptance, “Well, it’s a pretty long drive, so I can’t blame you……everything OK with you and Kevin? Do I need to be on stand by to offer a comforting shoulder for him to cry on?” he amusingly quipped.  
Patrick rolled his eyes at him, “I think Kevin is fine….and yes I am aware of the double entendre!.....but I think it was good that we met back up and sort of cleared the air a little…..I hope we did anyway.”

Michael took a long draught of his own coffee before he responded, “I hope so too. He’s been……I don’t want to say lonely, but….he’s definitely been alone.”

Dom walked into the middle of the pair of them standing and considering Michael’s comment. He was already holding his bag and the keys to the car.

“I’ll just get this into the car, then….are we…?” and he gestured in Patrick’s direction towards the exterior of the house with his head.  
Michael purposefully turned to the cutlery drawer in order to avoid making eye contact with him….but god he looked amazing with his hair still damp and forming tight curls falling across his forehead.

Patrick indicated his mug and the bowl that Michael had dished out and smothered in almond milk, “Can I finish this first? It’s allegedly the best granola in the world…..plus I need something to try and redress the balance after eating my own body weight in candy last night!”

Dom snorted a chuckle and nodded, “OK, I’ll dump this and then maybe I’ll join you. That OK?” he flashed his gaze directly at and found the waiting pools of green eyed heaven of Michael Firth.  
“Of course,” he responded and turned to gather a bowl and mug for Dom whilst the man himself went out through the front door and placed his holdall in the trunk of his car.

As he was closing the door with a loud bang – partly as a result of him taking out his frustration at how delectably sexy Michael looked preparing breakfast in his kitchen – Kevin and Frankie sauntered along.  
“Hey!” they greeted each other.

“Are you heading off straight away?” Kevin asked, “I’ve been checking in on Tanya…..it’s not pretty!”

Dom filled Kevin in on the idea of him and Patrick planning to set off after a bowl of Michael’s granola, which was met with rapturous groans from Kevin.  
“Oh my God! Firth!!!!! Have you made your gorgeous granola? With chocolate chips? And sour cherries?” Kevin whimpered as the pair joined Patrick and Michael.

A sexy, confident grin flashed across Michael’s face as he nodded, “I have indeed….I take it you want some too?”

Three of the four men made groaning noises of delight at the amazing breakfast bowl, Michael accepted the praise with the right amount of sexy, head dipping, nose wrinkling blushing to render him not a complete twat.  
Although Dom couldn’t help but compare the flavour of Michael’s perfectly exquisite granola to every other taste and flavour that he could recall of the man who looked so completely edible standing bare footed, his hip resting against the cooker in this beautiful, Malibu home.

Fuck!

He was doomed!

Dom was doomed!

As soon as they had finished their breakfast Patrick went through to his guest bedroom and collected what remained of his belongings before pulling the covers as neatly as he could across the bed and returning to the living area where Kevin and Michael appeared deep in conversation across the counter top, Dom was nowhere to be seen so he continued quietly out of the front door, where he located his friend.

“You OK?” Patrick asked, Dom’s body language looked anything but OK….he was fidgety and there was an unfamiliar look behind his eyes.  
Dom regarded Patrick with what he hoped was a ‘normal’ expression, (it wasn’t!), “I’m fine….I just think we should hit the road and get back….I want to check on things at the window…..”  
Patrick shook his head and pursed his lips, glancing quickly over his shoulder before he replied, “Cut the crap! This has nothing to do with the journey or the window. What the hell happened between you and Michael? You could cut the atmosphere with a fucking knife!”

Dom shook his head, “Everything’s fine….we were just no strings fun and now….it’s finished.” He took Patrick’s bag and tossed it into the trunk.

“Have you argued?” Patrick persisted.

“NO! It’s all fine,” Dom snapped, “Jesus Patrick, I just don’t see the point in prolonging this….you know what casual flings are like…..you have to know when it’s over and leave….and I need to leave!”

Patrick wasn’t convinced, but said no more as he and Dom made their way back into the house.  
Kevin and Michael hastily moved apart, Michael keeping his back towards them for a couple of moments, although he was rinsing crockery, so maybe the timing was just a coincidence.  
Kevin met Patrick’s face as he showered Frankie with head rubs and nuzzles, which Frankie was lapping up – Kevin would have to have words later about being such a floozy!  
Patrick’s eyes on his were soft and kind, and warm and just a little bit vulnerable. Kevin’s were clear and focussed, and felt like they were looking at hope, and companionship, for the first time in a long time.

Dom cleared his throat, “Well, it’s been great catching up again Kevin, and Michael….thank you for your hospitality,” he thrust out his hand to clasp Kevin’s and pull him into a one armed hug whilst Michael clasped his hands behind his back, holding steadfastly onto the oven door handle as he plastered what he hoped was a natural looking smile on his face.  
“It was my pleasure….have a safe journey back.”

Dom noticed the body language and part of him melted inside at how stoic and ‘grown up’ Michael was being….clearly he was more used to breaking off short term no-strings flings than Dom was.

Patrick acknowledged Michael’s intense glance towards him with a tight lipped nod, “So, I’ll be in touch about the plan and timescale for the amazing Firth artwork contribution to MDG’s next worldwide success in gaming,” and this statement managed to drag a more natural grin from the dark haired man.  
“Timescale AND fee!” he smirked, relaxing his posture fractionally and padding across to follow him and Kevin, Dom having already made his way to the car.

He had opened the driver’s door and was removing his overshirt to toss it into the back as the others came out.   
He licked his tongue across his upper lip, feeling the rough prickles of his moustache and flashed a glance towards Michael whose eyes were trained on him like laserbeams. They held a powerful, mesmeric gaze for a few seconds as Kevin scooped up Frankie and held him in a manner which encourage ‘kisses’ to Patrick.

Patrick had wanted to hug and hold onto Kevin; to crush him against his body and recapture some more of the deeply rooted familiarity that his body inspired within him, but Frankie’s wet nuzzles at least allowed him the chance to stand close enough to smell Kevin’s fresh scented shower product….or maybe it was his shampoo. Either way, he stored it away in his olfactory senses….and OK he made much more of a deal of stroking Frankie’s head and ears than was necessary…..but it meant he stroked against Kevin’s shirt and on one occasion his stubbled chin.

Kevin’s eyes had been focussing directly on Patrick for the duration……he was still the most perfect man……although the fact that he had walked away from their happiness was acting as an almost invisible force field around Kevin’s heart this time.

….but maybe Patrick Murray had the ability to wear him down.

“Will you call me….when you get back home? Just to let me know you’re back safe?” Kevin murmured, swallowing hard as Patrick’s eyes flashed a hopeful smile back at him.  
“I can do that…..I’d like to do that,” he replied. And with a final handshake for Michael he climbed into the passenger seat and the pair drove off.

Dom almost held his nerve, but as he manoeuvred the vehicle around the small cul-de-sac type road he looked back and met Michael’s sad expression.   
Dom thought about every feeling he’d shared with him and gave an honest, natural and warm smile, just for Michael, combined with a small, salute style wave.   
It was enough to make Michael forget his resolve to remain stoic and unmoved; and his face lit up in a wide, open smile as he held up his palm and gently flicked his fingers in a sweet wave.

“Oh fuck!.......I think I might love Dom!” he whispered to Kevin as he released Frankie’s wriggling body to the ground.

“Oh fuck!......I think I’ve fallen back in love with Kevin!” Patrick murmured as he curled into the passenger side seat and stared out at the passing scenery.

Kevin clasped his friend warmly, advised him to “have a good think about what you want to do” and returned to his own house with his beloved dog.   
As he sprawled across his bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling he twisted his head to meet Frankie’s imploring face.  
“Oh fuck”……..I don’t think I ever fell out of love with Patrick!” he sighed; Frankie’s response being to grumble a snore and rest his drooling chin against his master’s muscular bicep.

Patrick and Dom stopped for a couple of meal and drinks breaks en route to the city.   
On the final stop before home Dom called Doris whilst Patrick paid a rather lengthy visit to the bathroom:

“Doris? Can I come over and talk with you later?”

“Of course…you know you can. But I’m not in the mood for you telling all the gory details of how far you managed to shove your fist, or your tongue up Firth’s asshole!”

Doris heard the deep sigh down the phone and squealed,  
“Oh fuck!........Are you in love with Michael?”

Dom groaned and nodded, even though he knew Doris couldn’t see his response….but somehow she just knew.

“OK…..drop Patrick off and get over here. You know I’m always here for you….I love you.”

“I love you too Doris!”


	32. Looking for a new job....again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, after they all meet up again and sort of establish the 'end' of some relationships and the possible 'start' of others I do a bit of a time leap.  
> Michael makes a rash decision about Dom, and Patrick has to face the prospect of finding a new job again....which leads to him starting to view Kevin as a trust worthy friend he can talk to about his worries.  
> Doris is back giving her own unique brand of advice! I love writing Doris!

Jump forwards in time 2 months.  
%%%%%%%%%%%%%  
“So you’re seriously gonna go to San Francisco and surprise him?” Kevin asked Michael as they sat waiting for Tanya to top up their iced teas.   
The fall weather had hit and outside the sky was a murky grey.  
Michael nodded, maintaining his narrow lipped expression on the counter top, “I need to sign off on the artwork at MDG anyway….which OK, I can do via email, but… me and Dom said no strings, so if I’m in town for a couple of nights we can maybe do a couple more no strings nights together!” he twisted his lips and banged his head softly against his forearm.

Tanya hugged his hunched shoulders, “Michael! You have been as celibate as Kevin since you met the guy…why can’t you just admit that you want him and go tell him that?”

Kevin raised his hand to cut off Michael’s response, “And don’t simply say ‘We agreed on no-strings!’ AGAIN!”

But we diiiid,” Michael mumbled dejectedly.

Kevin forced his friend to sit upright and held into his shoulders briskly, “You told me you thought you were in love with him….in love does not mean no strings!”

“I know I said that, and you also told me to think about what I wanted to do……so I’ve decided I’ll go and surprise him in San Francisco and fuck him a few more times!” Michael explained, taking a large draught of his iced tea.

“No offence, but it’s a shit idea!” Tanya replied; Kevin nodded along with her statement and Michael dropped his head to his arm again and continued groaning as he banged it repeatedly.  
“I just miss him….and I want to fuck him….is that bad?” he asked, pathetically.

“Yes!” came the resonant, stereo reply!

_______

Patrick had met up with Doris and Dom for lunch following an emailed notification that had left him slightly speechless.

“So he’s what, coming back early and you’re out?” Dom clarified as he tucked into a large bowl of noodles.  
Patrick heaped a massive forkful into his mouth and nodded in response, quickly chewing to enable him to make a muffled reply.

“Yeah, she had the baby early, everything is fine, he’s bored, they need the money, so Owen's coming back in 4 weeks…..which makes me unemployed in 4 weeks!”

Doris pointed her chopsticks at him across the table, “So…..hang on, what about Kevin….didn’t he come up here to open some new office for his Games company thing?”  
Patrick nodded and smiled slightly as he thought back to a few weeks earlier.   
Kevin had indeed been in town, looking at possible offices for the Tru Gaming ideas and conception department which would be based out of San Francisco.   
He’d got in touch and they’d met up for coffee, and then the following day for lunch, and then he’d asked Patrick to accompany him and give his opinion about the 2 buildings he had narrowed it down to.

It had been great.  
They’d been ‘buddies’, and as had always been the case they had bounced ideas and jokes off each other…..it had been better than great actually…..it had been almost perfect.

“Kevin is opening up offices and heading up the West Coast area….but he hasn’t mentioned anything about personnel….and I’m NOT asking him for a job! That’s not where we are!” he explained.

Dom’s eyebrows rose, “So….where exactly ARE you? I mean, nothing happened when he visited, or when you were in Malibu……or did it?”

Patrick smiled, “Nothing happened…..well, I kissed him….just a small, chaste one…..but he pushed me away…..as he should have because it wasn’t the right time….I was just pumped full of candy and….his eyes looked so fucking blue!”

Doris made gagging noises, “Jesus! Will the pair of you just go and flash your cocks at them, or whatever the hell you need to do to get the message across! You like Michael, and you like Kevin….and from what I can see, they seem to like you back….now, I know I am no guru on gay relationships….but as heterosexual ones go, that’s a pretty good starting point you know!”

Dom shook his head and pushed away his bowl of food.   
Michael Firth had apparently wanted to stick to the whole no strings arrangement between them.   
He hadn’t contacted Dom in the time he left his house, even though he knew he’d been in weekly contact with Patrick over the artwork for his game. 

Doris picked up on his mood.   
She’d noticed it a lot, and also that he’d been throwing himself back into his work more and more to compensate for loneliness.

Patrick broke the quietness, “I don’t want to push him away. If this is what I get with him; this friendship or even just a couple of text messages….then that might have to be enough. But I can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again….again!” he rationalised.

Doris reached across and stroked his arm reassuringly, “Go see him….please….just let him know he can depend on you this time….he loved you enough to turn his life around for you, and then to risk being alone rather than lie about his feelings for you. You just need to remind him that you’re a good guy…..not a dumbass, walk out rather than have a discussion, leaving on a jet plane cunt!”

Patrick gave her the sarcastic nodding smirk she deserved, “Fuck you!” he laughed, Doris gave an exuberant hand gesture in the form of a flourishing bow and stole one of the prawn balls, “And Dom, you just need to get laid! Go down to the steam rooms and get a little action….and please God don’t tell me that it wouldn’t be the same….’cos if you do I’ll slam your balls in the door, I swear to God!”

Doris could always be relied upon to add her own unique perspective to a situation!

If you stripped away her language though the actual concepts were generally sound: it would definitely be in Patrick’s favour to show Kevin that he could be relied upon and wasn’t going to up and leave at the drop of a hat, and if Dom didn’t want to go and get some steam room action then it implied that he really did want Michael and nobody else….in which case he should go get him!

_________

Later that evening Patrick was scrolling through various websites looking at possible jobs in the IT/Gaming world.   
One that caught his eye was based in LA and looked quite promising. It wasn’t linked to Tru Gaming and was actually a slightly different field, which meant there would be no tricky ‘split loyalties’ potentially.  
The one person who he knew would be able to answer some of his niggling questions in relation to it was Kevin…..he hadn’t actually picked up the phone and called him since their re-meet up….they’d messaged a few times, sent a couple of emails and of course met up in SF….but calling him somehow seemed really personal…..but this was for a perfectly reasonable and understandable reason!

Kevin saw the incoming message on his phone and felt a giddy rush of energy in his stomach…..actually his groin, but stomach seemed simpler!

K : Hey….Patrick…..everything OK?

P; Hi Kevin…..ahem….well, yes and no. Are you free to talk?

K: [settling himself on his sofa and muting the TV] Of course.

P: [sighing in gratitude] ….Owen’s coming back to work early so I have 4 weeks to find a new job….and there’s one based in LA that looks interesting.

K: [interrupting slightly]….a competitor to Tru Gaming?

P: Don’t worry, no….it’s gaming and IT, but not shoot-em ups or single player stuff…..more multi level problem solving stuff. It’s a company called 8D….I was calling to see if you know anything about them.

Kevin inhaled and shuffled down on the sofa, getting more comfortable.   
He had heard of 8D actually; the whole gaming scene was a mesh of tightly knit companies all putting their unique spin on the industry, and much as there was competition, these days most had found their own niche which meant they seldom came to metaphorical blows.

K: I know of 8D….you’d be a pretty good fit for them. Is it a Team Manager position?

P: Yeah. It looks interesting. Heading up a team delivering new products to the market, so mainly organising artwork and final finishes and product releases…

K: You’d be great at that. Using Michael on that new MDG thing was inspired….I’ve seen some of his sketches and if the actual game play reflects them you’re onto a hit.

Patrick was softening into the conversation, it was wonderful to hear Kevin saying nice things about him, and it felt so natural to be discussing his possible career moves and future with him.

P: Michael’s done a brilliant job, he just needs to sign off the final proofs. So….8D, you reckon I should look into it? I mean, there isn’t much out there and I don’t have long…..I was hoping not to have to move again, but….

K: 8D would be a good position for you Patrick. MDG’s loss, but yeah, you should look into it further. Do you want me to mention your name to them?

P; Oh God, no!! I couldn’t ask you to do that, and anyway….I need to feel it’s right. I’ve fucked up enough by not actually getting all the right information before making a decision!

Both men chuckled slightly down their phones.

K: OK, whatever you prefer. So…..new job again? You OK about it? The Patrick Murray I remember would have freaked out at the possibility of having no income guaranteed in a month’s time!

P: Well, that was the old Patrick Murray……the new and improved Patrick Murray isn’t so much freaking out as……mildly perturbed! BUT….and here is the excellent part…..I’m kind of liking the thought of a fresh opportunity! I mean, MDG has been great because it’s so familiar, but…..it’s you know……soooooo familiar!

K: Mmmmm, I was wondering about all of that actually. Are you based in my old office?

P: Yup! The goldfish bowl!

K: [inhaling as his thoughts turned instantly to some of the more enjoyable events that had taken place in that office, not to mention the ridiculous amount of time he’d spent simply staring at Patrick through the glass!] Well, I suppose this new turn of events will render your time in residence even shorter than mine!

P: I guess so! Anyway, thanks for the support re 8D….can I call you if I need a second opinion on my application?

K: Of course you can…..I’m always happy to help.

P: Thanks, Kevin.

K: Anytime. Have a great evening.


	33. Looking at Dom hugging a Blond Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael fucks up his surprise....but it does mean a little cameo for one of my favourite OC creations....the amazing Leo Banks (For visualisation purposes, Body of David Gandy, Season 3 Athos/Tom Burke, long hair head!) There are a few little homages to his own future (this is of course Pre-Davy for those of you who may know of him!) and as always he was a joy and a delight to write.

Michael had flown into San Francisco International at 4pm on Friday afternoon.   
He had planned to check into his hotel room, shower and change and then stop by the Chicken Window at about 6pm- before the rush and when he knew Dom would usually be preparing stuff – and …..surprise him!

The closer he got to the city however he was beginning to have second thoughts…..much as he was eager to have some excellent sex, he was also slightly dreading having to leave him again.  
The concept that Dom wouldn’t want to see him casually again hadn’t occurred to him.   
Not for any glib or big headed reason, just because he’d been so caught up in picturing Dom as eager to see him as he was.

He’d been slightly side tracked by bumping into a very old friend as he exited the airport – Leo Banks was now a very successful male model, but many years before he’d been the only other gay man within spitting distance during his teenage years!  
Both men had grown up and realised their sexuality in small towns, or in the case of Leo, village and private school, near to York.   
They’d been passing acquaintances at various parties where they’d somehow picked up the ‘gaydar’ vibes and struck up a friendship….they’d even indulged in a little kissing – although when it was clear that there was no actual attraction between them they’d turned the interaction into more of a mutual instruction and improving technique session instead.   
They’d remained phone friends for quite a while, and when Leo’s modelling career had taken off a number of years later Michael had been a constant and sincere congratulator of his buddy.

Leo had just arrived from London and was in town to be the visible ‘face’ of one of the many brands and products that he was heavily paid to represent.   
The two men had shared warm embraces and a hasty discussion about how long they were in town for before Leo was whisked away in a large vehicle through a quickly amassing crowd of nudging and in some cases squealing fans – he flashed a roll eyed, open-mouthed expression of incredulity towards Michael as he waved and promised to message him to catch up if possible whilst they were both in town.  
Therefore, when he had thrown down his case and relieved his bladder, Michael tapped a brief message out and sent it on to Leo’s number – just a reiteration of how nice it was to meet up unexpectedly and a desire to have a longer catch up if possible.

Just less than an hour later Michael was showered, freshly, but casually dressed in crisp jeans, boots, t shirt and his favourite navy blue hoodie which bore a subtle union flag design in shades of blue and grey across the shoulders.  
He’d left his hotel room tidy….just in case Dom fancied going there with him; but secretly he wanted to roll around in Dom’s bed, in Dom’s apartment….which smelled of him and would allow him to completely immerse himself in the man that he had really, really missed so much.

____

Dom had been trying to do what Doris had suggested….he’d even been to the steam rooms the previous evening; but despite receiving his usual level of attention nobody had tempted him and he’d left feeling cleaner but not satisfied.  
Therefore he went down to the Chicken Window below his apartment a little earlier than usual. 

Corey was already there and shared the news that his brother was arriving in town later on.   
Dom had met Luke once before, in fact they’d hooked up, which is how he’d then gone on to meet Corey and employ him!  
Dom agreed without hesitation to let Corey off his shift that evening, but being the diligent manager he was he’d only agreed to be released on the proviso that he help Dom get ahead on the prep; so the pair of them had been crushing garlic, grinding spices and hacking up chicken whilst discussing the prospect of branching out and opening a further window in a different city…..how would that work? How would they ensure consistency? How would they go about choosing a location?  
It was pleasing to be able to switch off from thoughts linked to his groin and Michael Firth…and the fact that it was clear nobody else was even close to holding a candle to him in Dom’s lust filled eyes.

The evening staff had arrived in order to take up their posts; everyone arrived early to work for Dom – he was a great boss and the social aspect of working as a team was as much a part of the job as the actual work.

Michael made his way through what were now familiar streets on the route to Dom’s apartment/chicken window.   
He felt slightly giddy and almost teenage-like as he refrained from breaking into a jog. Instead he slowed himself by lengthening his strides and running his tongue across his teeth, switching the piece of gum he’d popped into his mouth from cheek to cheek.   
He approached the window from the opposite side of the road and couldn’t help but grin widely as he caught sight of Dom’s distinctive curls.

His excitement however plummeted, as did his heart in his chest, as he watched Dom approach a younger looking guy, embrace him warmly, nuzzle his face into his neck and slide his palms across the man’s buttocks, almost lifting him off the pavement as he grinned and twinkled his eyes directly at the younger man’s face which was thankfully hidden from Michael’s gaze.

Michael fixed his mouth into a firm, pressed lipped line in a bid to control the rapid rise and fall of his chest.   
It felt like his stomach was about to burst from his chest.

Of course Dom would have moved on and be entertaining other men!

They’d agreed no strings……they’d had no contact for the past couple of months since that final, strained morning in Malibu.

And of course Dom would go for some sexy, young, blond haired hunk.

Michael gave one further, painful glance across at Dom and the Mystery Blond.   
Dom had both hands cupping the man’s cheeks and was smiling lasciviously at him, and Michael snapped his head around; this time he wasted no time breaking into a jog, which rapidly became a full sprint as he struggled with his emotions and the lump which was lodged in his throat.

He kept running, almost automatically, until he reached the ‘safety’ of his hotel, and the sanctuary of his room.  
The tidiness he’d left now infuriated him, and he flung himself across the bed, pounding his fist repeatedly against the firm mattress, swearing into the covers and slowly allowing his anger to subside into sadness.   
A few tears leaked from his eyes and he reconciled himself to the realisation that despite his attempts to the contrary he was completely in love with Dom Basaluzzo.

Curled on his side, feeling utterly miserable and foolish he felt his phone buzz a few times.   
Pulling it from his pocket he saw a message from Patrick, one from Kevin and a reply to his message from Leo Banks.

Patrick’s was a brief update on his job situation, informing him that he’d got a first interview for the LA based 8D job and would be going down to meet with the directors in person.

The message from Kevin was one of encouragement, and caused Michael to sob afresh.

The final message, from Leo was however more tangible, and in his frustrated state made Michael sit up, wipe his face and consider the implications.   
Leo was attending a press junket thing that evening, and he’d welcome Michael’s company if he fancied braving the flash bulbs and red carpet.

Why the fuck not!

Getting pissed with his old friend sounded like as good a way as any to try and remove the images of Dom embracing another man from his moist eyes.

He fired back a message and made a hasty call via the concierge for a suitable outfit to be delivered up to him whilst he reshowered and poured himself and downed a whisky from the mini bar.

Michael took a second look at his facial hair and trimmed it down to a sharp, bristling style.   
He slathered moisturizer across the rest of his face and added a little more styling product to his hair to give it a little more texture – if he was accompanying one of the world’s most famous and well paid male models he’d better titivate himself up.  
The clothing which was delivered to his room met his tastes; a couple of suits from Hugo Boss with three choices of shirt and shoes.   
He chose a dark grey, woollen suit featuring a large, chalk-striped almost tartan effect, with a brutally crisp white shirt, black leather belt and smart shoes featuring an almost violet coloured lace, which matched the lining to the suit jacket.

The concierge took the unrequired items away and left him to dress, Michael’s hotel bill would have a rather large addition of ‘extras’ but fuck it……hopefully there’d be some press images taken, and hopefully it would make Dom as jealous as hell!

In his own jealous state this made perfect sense to Michael!

Leo had arranged for his car to swing by and collect Michael en route to the Cerf Club location of the junket and at 8.30 sharp Michael ambled down to the foyer of the hotel.   
He gained rather more attention and furtive looks due to his now rather dashing and distinctive appearance, but either ignored or failed to recognise them. His thoughts were still consumed by images of Dom’s palms clutching the stranger’s cheeks and smiling into his face.  
God he wanted that passion directed at him.

The large limousine drew up as he reached the entrance, and the darkened window was lowered to display Leo’s perfectly chiselled features which he hastily tweaked into a comical leer and wolf whistle.  
“Firthy! Get your sexy arse in this car!” came Leo’s greeting.

Michael snorted in amusement, this could be exactly what he needed to remove Mr Basaluzzo from his thoughts.

In the back of the limo the pair made pleasant conversation.   
Leo informed Michael about the junket – promoting a new range of male cologne products by Chanel, which Leo was the ‘face’ of.   
The whole range had a ‘successful suity man’ vibe (Leo’s exact choice of phrase!), so he himself was dressed top to toe in Chanel menswear – a deep, wine coloured suit and waistcoat with a black shirt and leather accessories.

“There’ll be loads of press. You OK with being seen on my arm? I won’t be treading on any romantic toes will I?” Leo asked, although the flash of almost anger behind Michael’s eyes almost told him the reply without the need for words.  
“No….you know me…..no strings!” he stated, before clearing his throat “What about you? Will I incur the wrath of some Latino beefcake if I stick my hand on your Chanel clad arse?”

Leo shook his head and grinned, “Nah…..nobody out there for me…anyway, I don’t go for the beefcake type! Now, if some slim, blue-eyed, softly spoken studious type came my way….maybe!....but I’m not holding out any hope of finding someone who hasn’t heard of me, or seen me….and once they recognise me it invariably becomes weird.”

The noise level increased and the speed of the vehicle slowed to a crawl signifying their proximity to the fancy venue, and when the door was opened Leo exited with a brief, “Here we go!” directed at his friend into a hail of flashbulbs and shouts for him to look ‘over here’.  
Michael unfolded himself from the limo and went around to join Leo, their arms comfortably slid around each others’ waists and they made an incredibly attractive pair, earning many demands from the waiting photographers and film crews who were covering the event for fashion channels and various celebrity magazines.

Leo of course was well used to adopting steely-eyed, smouldering gazes at cameras and quickly got into character, varying his drop-hipped stance and draping his arm in various positions around Michael’s slender but muscular body.  
Michael found it easy to arrange his face into an intense smirking grin, which seemed to meet with the approval of the photographers, and moving alongside Leo was familiar. He was also a man who was used to having ‘strange’ hands on his body, so Michael felt he had carte blanche to rest his hands where they felt comfortable….slotted into the back pocket of Leo’s trousers and cupping his arse felt pretty comfortable!

They made their way along the red carpet, Leo was gracious to his ‘fans’ and stopped frequently to meet their requests for autographs and selfies which meant their journey to the door of the venue took quite some time.  
Once inside Leo looked at Michael and his almost aghast expression:  
“Fucking hell! Is this what your life is actually like now Banksie?” he asked.

Leo laughed back at him, shaking his head, “Not at all! Only for stuff like this….which pays the bills. Seriously, I manage to get around London virtually unnoticed.”

Michael continued shaking his head as Leo dragged him into the throng of B list celebrities and fashion media who were circulating and flashing Leo appreciative stares.  
Leo embraced several and gave others ‘air kisses’, a few even received proper, ‘Leo kisses’ as he gathered up two glasses of wine and offered one to Michael, raising his own for a clinked ‘Cheers!’

The two of them passed a pleasant few hours circulating and then finding their own space to have a more honest and candid catch up.  
Michael learned that Leo had been single for a while following a break up that he didn’t want to talk about, and Leo learned that Michael had fucked a guy and now fancied the arse off him, but had just found out he was clearly still playing the field.

“So, “ Leo was on his third glass of white wine and was now slightly squiffy and loose lipped, “You’re telling me that the only reason you came here with me is because Mr Hunky Arse gave you the brush off?”

Michael shook his head slowly, a pouty lipped expression on his own slightly tipsy face, “He didn’t actually give me the brush off….’cos he didn’t know I was there!”

A photographer came up and asked for a shot; both men somehow straightened up and delivered mesmeric, green-eyed gazes at the camera, Leo’s hand resting lightly on Michael’s thigh, and his own arm draped around the slightly taller man’s shoulders, bringing their faces close together and creating an intimate snap for the lucky photographer.

Leo shook off ‘professional Leo’ as soon as the photographer had left and returned to his more relaxed, slightly fuzzy normality.  
“So, he wasn’t expecting you…and you turn up and what….was he snogging someone? Or did you walk in on him balls deep in someone else?”

Michael shrugged and exhaled, “No! Well, sort of. I came up here to surprise him, because we’re no strings fun and I haven’t had any no strings fun with him in 8 long weeks….and I saw him from across the road all over some young, blond….cunt!”

Leo sniggered; for a remarkably sexy man he really had the most boyishly sweet giggle! “So, basically he was doing what we’ve been doing all evening?”

Michael pouted, but nodded.  
“And….we’re not anything more than mates right? I mean, yes you are a fabulous kisser…”

“….thanks in no small part to you, Sir!” Michael butted in and raised his glass for a further clink.

“Thank you, right back atcha! Anyway…..you’re jumping to co’lusions,” Leo slurred.

“I may have overreacted! But…..he was doing this,” and Michael put down his glass to demonstrate Dom’s pose of cupping the stranger’s face between his hands.

Leo leaned into the gesture and hummed slightly, “That’s quite nice really…..but I still don’t plan on letting you fuck me Firth!”

Michael wrinkled his face and snorted, “Oh shit! I’m so into him…..really…I am! I’ve tried not to be, but he’s just well lush!”

Leo sniggered further, “You have to tell him then! Do it tomorrow Firth…..and if he turns you down at least you’ll know and can move on.”

“Don’t want him to though!” Michael stated sadly.

“’course you don’t…..but, I bet he won’t!” and Leo tried, unsuccessfully to tap his nose.

Michael nodded slowly and picked his glass back up to drain the rather decent white wine from it.  
“Right! If I have another of these I’ll be smashed off my tits….this has been fun though, thanks for distracting me, Leo.”

Leo nodded sagely, “That’s me to a tee…..a fun distraction!” but he grinned sincerely and clapped Michael on the back as he stood up. “I’m going to hang around and do a bit more pressing the flesh here. You OK to get back to your hotel?”  
Michael nodded, he felt that a walk in the fresh air would help his subdued mood, but Leo’s words had struck a niche of clarity……what if Dom’s interaction with the Blond Guy had been as innocent as his time with Leo?

God he was horny!

And horny for Dom and his blue-eyed twinkle; and tousle haired curls; and amazingly talented mouth; and glorious cock.

He satisfied himself however with a slow amble back to his hotel, a black coffee and a sugared doughnut from a late night bakery.


	34. Looking at a cheque for $3.2!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These boys really are going to get there......I need to establish what Patrick hadn't realised in the series....which is that Kevin and him LOVE each other's company, and that is where the attraction came from, as well as their physical attraction.  
> I also wanted to show how Kevin has always had Patrick in his heart and has never truly let him go......in a similar way to Tanya not letting her guys go.

Patrick had received notification that he was required to attend the 8D offices for an informal first meeting to see if his application for the position matched up with his general suitability to the company brand and ‘vibe’.  
They’d agreed to see him on Saturday afternoon, so that he could continue his busy schedule at MDG – with Owen’s early return there was an added incentive on him to finish off the new game that Michael had worked on – he wanted to ensure that he took the credit for the game, which he had a feeling would be popular, and maybe even one that claimed awards.  
He’d therefore arranged a flight into LA to arrive on Saturday morning and the meeting with the 8D people went remarkably well. 

The only niggle at the back of his mind was that he’d have to relocate….again….and he’d just about gotten used to his new San Francisco apartment. And he’d missed the city – it truly felt like home to him.

He’d only been able to get a reasonably priced flight back on Sunday evening, so he was a little at a loss of what to do following the meeting, however a pair of Harley Davidson bikes purred past him as he sipped an iced coffee, and suddenly he knew where he wanted to be.  
He requested an Uber and gave the directions he recalled from his previous visit to Michael’s property, enjoying the cleaner and saltier air as the vehicle whisked him towards Malibu.

After settling the price he walked around to the beach and couldn’t see any signs of activity as he mounted the slightly worn and faded wooden steps, and after knocking on the glass and wooden door jam he accepted the fact that Kevin wasn’t home. He wasn’t met with any barking either, so presumably Frankie was out with him.

He went over to Michael’s property and met with a similar lack of response, and finally tried Tanya.  
“Where the fuck are they all?” he stated aloud as he somewhat gloomily shuffled back around to Kevin’s deck.

There was a small amount of sun still around for the time of year, and with his shades on the house provided a natural sun trap and wind break.   
It wasn’t unpleasant, but he wished his plan had been more successful.  
He wandered up the beach towards the small bakery and bought himself a large coffee and one of the most enormous cinnamon rolls he’d ever seen and munched on it as he sauntered back, settling down on the steps to plan out his next move.

He’d decided to sit in the sun until he got bored, make a list about the pros and cons of the 8D job on his phone and then get an Uber back to his hotel, however just as he was finishing his coffee and considering whether to start with the pros, or cons, or just randomly write the list and allocate values later, he was jolted back to reality by the arrival of a panting, sand covered ball of energy who seemed determined to get inside his t shirt with him!

“Frankie!...Frankie, get down…..oh god, Frankie, no, not up there……God that’s cold!”

Kevin ambled up to his decking steps a few minutes later just as Frankie’s head had managed to wriggle up under Patrick’s t shirt and as the man was trying unsuccessfully to coax his persistent, drooling face out from under it.

Patrick looked up adorably, looking just the right amount of dishevelled and flustered to render him completely perfect in Kevin’s eyes.

“Have you never heard of canine training?” he asked, giggling and swearing afresh as Frankie’s slavering tongue found a particularly ticklish spot on his bare flesh.  
Kevin smiled warmly down at him, “Who says that isn’t exactly what I’ve trained him to do!?”

“Can you get him out? I mean, much as I’m enjoying the attention….it’s the most contact I’ve had from a man in months!” Patrick quipped, trying and failing to lure Frankie out from beneath his t shirt.

Kevin chuckled at his….hmmm, was he his friend?.....or still his ex-lover?.......anyway, he chuckled at him and tried to grapple the small dog out from his exploration of Patrick’s torso.   
Part of Kevin was ridiculously jealous of his dog for a few moments, but then he realised that the appearance of Patrick on his stoop in this manner was a surprise….despite the fact that seeing him there had actually seemed like the most normal thing in the world.

“Not that you aren’t very welcome, but, what are you doing here? Michael’s away in San Francisco actually,” Kevin added as he went passed Patrick to open the door and allow Frankie to scamper over to his bowl and lap up from his water bowl with delight.  
Patrick stood and tried to get his now stretched out of shape t shirt back under control as he followed Kevin.

“He wasn’t meeting me was he? I didn’t have anything in my diary….that’s why I’ve been meeting the 8D people!” Patrick stated, following Kevin through into his kitchen, feeling quite welcome and at home in the space.  
Kevin opened the refrigerator and extracted a beer, waggling it in Patrick’s direction and taking out a second when Patrick nodded his acceptance of a beverage.

“No, not you….he’s planning on surprising Dom! And I hope it works because he’s been like a pining teenager since…well, since the last time you were here!”

Patrick took a long draught on his beer, “Well, he’s not the only one….Dom’s been mooning around and working like a maniac to try and take his mind off him! Have they never actually talked since…..well….then?”

Kevin shook his head as he sipped his beer and regarded Patrick.   
He looked like he belonged in his kitchen…..it was nice to have him there!

“Michael refuses to…says they are no strings and that it’s all over. He’s gone there to try and have another no strings session! They’re crazy!” he added, glugging down more of his beer. “Why ARE you here by the way?”

Patrick looked slightly sheepish, “Needed a friend to talk something through….and I tried Michael’s and Tanya’s…and here.”

Kevin pursed his lips; at least he’d tried his door too….albeit third on his list, apparently!

“Go on then….talk. What’s up? I’m guessing the Patrick Murray ‘it can’t be this good let me find the negative in the situation’ element is rearing it’s head?”

Patrick rolled his eyes, but Kevin wasn’t far wrong.   
“8D seems great…but I don’t know that I want to leave San Francisco again so soon!” Patrick said honestly.

Kevin regarded him and rested his hip against the counter top, his eyes taking in Patrick’s muscular thighs and defined pecs, remembering that time – a lifetime ago – when he’d come across him in the MDG offices dressed in that leather waistcoat….God he’d wanted to eat his face!

“Look, I’m in a bit of a quandary about all of this if I’m completely honest with you. You see….I was going to ask you if you were interested in running the Tru Gaming offices in San Francisco. It’s new gaming ideas development, you’d be great at it…and you wouldn’t have to leave the city! But then you told me about this 8D role and you seemed really excited about it….and….well, if you took it…..” Kevin’s voice petered out and he trained his gaze on the ocean outside.

“What? If I took it what?” Patrick asked, thinking about the excitement of a role based in San Francisco, especially in the amazing offices Kevin had found for the new branch.   
Kevin sighed deeply and raised his piercing blue eyes to find Patrick’s, “If you took the 8D job you’d be closer….we could meet up more….see more of each other….and I think I’d like that,” he stated softly, “BUT…..if you took the 8D job I’d have to start the process of finding someone for Tru Gaming all over again!...so really I’m just being lazy!”

Patrick’s eyes were sparkling back at Kevin now with a mixture of amusement and stomach trembling excitement.  
Had Kevin just admitted in a sort of round about, ‘throw you off the scent’ way that he might kind of like him again…..maybe just as a friend, or a bud, but……he’d said he wanted to see him around more!

He’d said it!

Shit…..now Patrick had to say something back because the silence could be mis construed and Kevin’s neck and eyes were already twitching.

“Do you think me working for you is a good idea? I mean…..we have history!” he stated, curling his lips into an off centred smile that almost made Kevin’s final layers of resolve crumble.

“All the more reason for it to be a good idea…hear me out!” Kevin raised a hand and smirked as Patrick pulled a face, “The working bit was great….we had some amazing ideas that were actually very….profitable.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes, “The only thing we came up with was a resounding flop of a game loosely based on Top Trumps….which nobody in the US played!”

“True…..and the actual game itself was a flop, hence why you signed over your share to me…I’m gonna say in a fit of stupidity, you can argue if you like, but……”

“…but what?” Patrick asked, noticing the shift in his body language.

Kevin raised a single finger to imply that Patrick should stay put and moved past him, grazing his bicep slightly against Patrick’s arm as he went by.  
Patrick studied his beer label and sipped from the long neck whilst he heard a drawer being opened and shut and Kevin returned to the kitchen where he placed a folded piece of printed paper down on the counter top.

“What’s this?” Patrick asked, eyeing the document and Kevin’s ice-blue, soft lipped expression.

“It’s your share,” he stated. “Actually, I was slightly annoyed and petulant, so It’s slightly less than your share….45%, I took 55.”

Patrick slipped his glasses from his front pocket and opened the sheet up, quickly glancing across the information and the incredibly large numbers with $ before them.  
Kevin inhaled slowly in a bid to prevent the growl that threatened to escape as Patrick looked at him through his sexy as fuck Prada frames…..Kevin had always had a thing for Patrick in his glasses.

“I sold the rights to the coding we used on the One up Him game….the actual game itself was pretty worthless, but the work we’d done on the coding and principle was sound, and the original makers of Top Trumps got in touch and made me an offer. As you can see, it was very decent indeed, so that….is your share. I never touched it, I have no idea why I did it, I just felt wrong taking all the money and credit for it when we’d worked on it….together,” the final word was whispered as he watched Patrick’s reactions.

Patrick had re-read the information several times.   
He had seen the date – which was over 4 years ago – and also seen the fact that this was an account opened in his name by Kevin Matheson which had apparently not been touched.

“Kevin? What the…..? This is a shit load of money!”

“I know! It’s yours…..I should have made you aware a lot sooner, but…..I won’t lie, you signing away your rights to the game just killed me. I suppose I’d thought I might one day get you back….that you might come back to me…and as long as we had that game together….I still had a part of….you,” Kevin’s eyes were focussing on his twisting hands, which he stuffed into the pockets of his faded jeans.

“So why are you giving me this now?” Patrick asked, his breath shallow and slightly painful beneath his ribs.   
He’d just become aware that he had several million dollars in the bank, and yet the information which was causing him to almost hyperventilate was the knowledge that Kevin had wanted him back…..but did this act now signify that he didn’t?   
That he had given up on them being together?   
For good?

Kevin met Patrick’s searching eyes, “Because…..you think that we can’t work together; and I wanted to remind you that we were good at it….working together,” he hastily stammered.   
Patrick nodded blandly, “So you’re saying I should tell 8D to fuck off and come work for you at Tru Gaming, and stay in San Francisco…….and you’d stay here in Malibu….with Frankie. But you’d be my boss again?”

Kevin sniggered slightly, “I didn’t lie when I said you’d be great for the 8D job; you would be…..but I’d kind of built the San Francisco office with you in mind…that’s why I wanted your opinion on the building….and the colour scheme….and I even got a Jelly Bean machine for the entrance….I know you and your love of sweeties….thought it might seal the deal!” 

Kevin was now looking adorably smug as he rocked on his heels and curled one side of his mouth into a perfectly kissable smile.  
Patrick returned the slightly seductive, slightly boyish grin, “You bought a Jelly Bean machine for the office because I like ‘sweeties’? I’m guessing that’s British for candy!?” he saw Kevin’s raised brow nod and wrinkle of his nose.

“Has it worked? I mean, I know I haven’t shown you a contract or a salary or anything, but…I have just given you a bank account with $3.2 million in it….”

Patrick tweaked his neck and plastered a mock outraged look on his face, “Wait! Was that a bribe? Are you basically telling me I can’t have the Jelly Beans if I don’t accept the 3.2 million dollars?”

Kevin clicked his cheek, “That’s the deal…..take it or leave it!”

Patrick cleared his throat, “Can the Jelly Bean machine take Hot Tamales?”

Kevin grunted and nodded briskly, “Yup!”

“How about M&Ms?”

Another grinning nod.

Patrick thought about what was on the table here.   
Kevin had openly encouraged him to look into the 8D job because he knew he’d be perfect for it, even though he had basically built an office in San Francisco around him….and based on what he now knew about Kevin he was pretty sure that if he told him right now that he wanted the 8D job he’d accept it and support him.   
It was what a friend would do.

Shit…..when did that happen?

Kevin was watching his expression, he could almost see and hear the mental cogs turning around – 'his Patrick' over thought everything but then acted on impulse – he was kind of hoping that 'his Patrick' hadn’t changed too much in that manner.

“OK, one last question….and this is definitely a deal breaker if I get the wrong answer!” Patrick smirked.

Kevin inhaled deeply and nodded, “OK…..hit me with it Murray!”

“Swinging chairs…..that are ridiculously impossible to get out of?” Patrick eyeballed Kevin and saw the smugly confident twinkle in his eyes.

“Double seat swinging hammocks being fitted on Monday; oh, and roof top heater and massive bean bags arriving Wednesday.”

Patrick stared almost dreamily back at Kevin, “In that case then……you might be the best boss ever. Deal!” and he held out his hand which Kevin took and shook briskly, although he grazed his thumb across Patrick’s knuckles before he fully let go.

“In that case then, we should celebrate…..take out?” Kevin suggested, “Or do you have to get back anywhere?”  
Patrick shook his head.   
He could think of nothing he wanted to do more than slob out with Kevin and eat take out.

“Cool. Let me message Tanya she should be back,” Kevin picked up his phone and saw the brief flash of disappointment cross Patrick’s face before he continued, “She always goes to the prison and sees Arnold on a Saturday, so she needs a bit of re-humanising, re-Tanya-ing if you like.”

Patrick nodded, God, this was a new Kevin…a Kevin who was there for his friends regardless of his own life and plans.   
Or maybe this was the Kevin that had always been there, Patrick just hadn’t hung around long enough to find out!

“How does she do it? I mean….I can understand trying to forgive someone for doing what they did….I have no idea if I could. But, to actually defend his actions and almost befriend him? That takes an amazing person.” Patrick mused whilst glancing distractedly at the various take out menus Kevin had put down infront of him.

“I know,” Kevin was tapping out a message, “Chinese? Or Thai maybe?”  
“Chinese,” Patrick responded before returning to his previous conversation, “I mean, how do you even start to be able to look at someone who did that to people you love?”

Kevin sighed, he’d had so many Saturday night conversations with Tanya over the years.   
She was amazing, and she found it hard to explain herself when he’d asked the very same type of questions, “All she says is that she realised quite early on that she had a choice to make – to go on for the rest of her life feeling hard done to and miserable and filled with hate, or she could try to find a reason behind it all. She said she chose the latter because it seemed the harder one and would keep her mind more occupied because she knew she had a long time ahead of her on her own.”

Both men contemplated that in silence.

Kevin knew that he’d taken on board her concept in his outlook on life in Malibu.   
He’d opted for the slightly ‘harder’ way forward of remaining faithful to what he’d promised Patrick. Not accepting any of the many offers he’d received, ignoring his sexual and emotional needs in a way – which was by far the more complicated option and therefore consumed his mind more fully in his bid to exist without Patrick Murray.

Patrick thought about what that might look like for him.   
The more difficult option in his life would have been staying with Kevin and trying to make things work, but he’d bailed. And that ‘easy option’ had turned into a fairly easy existence until Ritchie’s bombshell.   
And now here he was, taking on a job that was in many ways the easy option – so that he didn’t have to move cities again – although having Kevin as a boss again and working closely alongside him everyday was definitely NOT the easy option!

Their silent reverie was interrupted by Tanya’s arrival, bottle of Margarita mix in hand, bag of chips hanging from her mouth.  
“I am ready to consume by own body weight in MSG….I want egg rolls, and crispy duck and beef in black bean….and I want fried rice, none of your boiled healthy crap!” she announced planting a wet kiss on Kevin’s cheek before turning and delivering the same to Patrick, “Hi again!” she smiled.

Patrick hugged her warmly and steadfastly ignored the obvious redness to her eyes and lack of eye make up.   
She was a saint, but even saints apparently need a sob!  
They rang through a mammoth order of more food than they could possibly consume, but enjoyed dipping in and out of the many cartons when it arrived a short while later.  
Kevin mixed up blenders full of iced Margaritas and they talked random crap in that way that friends do.  
Patrick felt like a small slice of San Francisco was living by the beach in Malibu!

Kevin went to pee later in the evening, and Tanya caught the lingering, almost desperate look Patrick cast after him.  
“Give him time,” she whispered, draping her arm across Patrick’s slightly slumped shoulders.  
“I fucked up so bad,” he stated softly.  
Tanya sighed and rubbed soothing circles across his back, “So did Arnold…..but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve love, or friendship…if anything he needs it all the more. You hurt him when you left the way you did, and he’s cautious…..but you’re the one who can fix him…..just give him time. He still loves you more than anyone in the world,” she nudged into Patrick’s side with her fragrant, curled hair.  
“…..even Frankie?” Patrick asked mischievously.  
“Oh wait! Well, OK……not THAT much! But you know…..that’s Frankie!” and they both looked across at the little bulldog who had adopted a limp pawed, belly showing stretch on the sofa to accompany his grizzlingly rhythmical snores.

Both were laughing when Kevin returned and he sighed softly at how well Patrick seemed to have slotted back into his life.  
There was still something holding him back though, and he knew it was the fear of him leaving again.   
Maybe they COULD just be friends.   
Although the way Patrick was nuzzling himself against Tanya’s cheek was stirring all manner of sensations in his groin….again!

It was around midnight when Patrick suggested he should consider making a move.  
“I have a very nice, all expenses paid hotel room waiting for me…and given that I’m now turning down the 8D job…thank you Mr Matheson and Tru Gaming!.......I feel I should take full advantage while I can!” he explained whilst taking out his phone and locating the Uber app.  
Tanya growled and pouted, “You need to come here more! I like you being part of our Saturday nighters,” she slurred as she wrapped one of the slightly tattered throws around her shoulders and took a drag on the joint the trio had been sharing on the deck.

Patrick took his drag, inhaling deeply and exhaling in a long stream through his nostrils, “I like it too! This is…..it feels really nice being here….makes me happy…” his statement drifted off as he passed the lit stub across to Kevin whose eyes were almost closed in comfortable, fuzzy headed satisfaction.  
“Tha’s good….I always want you to be happy,” he tossed the tiny butt across the sand where the lit end quickly burned out.

Tanya gave both men hugs that seemed to come from her very heart and walked bare footed to the edge of the ocean, allowing her toes to sink into the wet sand.

“Is she OK?” Patrick asked as they watched.  
Kevin glanced over and nodded, “She’s just catching up with her guyz….she’s fine,” and the pair watched her for a few moments, her hand wiping at her cheek before she raised both hands to the sky and blew two kisses into the darkness, then turned and made her way home.

Patrick’s Uber driver arrived at around 1am to transport him back to the centre of LA and his rather corporate, but pristine hotel room.  
Kevin stood with him at the front door of his house, hands thrust back into his jeans pockets, a hapless shrug of his shoulders before he wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and pressed his body against the welcoming warmth and solidity of the Englishman.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Kevin murmured huskily, his warm breath ghosting across Patrick’s neck, sending shivers down his spine and ending resoundingly in his crotch.  
Patrick nodded, not wanting to break free from those muscular arms that were engulfing him so strongly.

How the hell had he walked away from this?   
It felt so right!

He thought about Tanya’s words; and he knew that he would give him all the time he needed – this had to be Kevin’s decision.   
Patrick had left him because he was scared he couldn’t ever trust him, but now, it was Kevin who needed to realise that he could trust Patrick…trust him not to walk away when it got a little tough.

The car had turned around to be facing the correct direction to drive away, it’s headlights had briefly illuminated the embracing pair, as if in a still from a homosexual version of La La Land.   
All too soon they drew apart and Kevin switched into professional mode in a bid to control his slightly shaky breath and need to grab and kiss the fuck out of Patrick Murray!

“I’ll be in touch with a draft contract, and you’ve got the details of the bank account so…..do whatever you want with it,” he stated.  
Patrick nodded, “I will……I only came here to talk and I’m going away as a millionaire with a job offer! This is crazy!”  
“We always were!” Kevin winked and turned, offering a single palmed ‘salute’ by way of a wave as Patrick got into the car and drove off.


	35. Looking at Leo Banks....a lot.....!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, more angst and confusion due to a crap inability to communicate for Dom and Michael.  
> Both Dom and Patrick are red blooded enough to appreciate Leo Banks' innumerable charms!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hair porn thing comes from a video that Tom Burke, when playing Athos in the Musketeers, sent to thank his Burketeer fans for their birthday fund raising efforts on his behalf. He uploaded a thank you message complete with several simply glorious swipes through his hair with his splayed hand......it warrants a YouTube search!

Kevin’s thoughts swirled around in his head as he tidied up, made himself a cup of peppermint tea.   
He didn’t notice that when dropping the bag into the trash it missed and landed on the floor, but he took the mug through to his bedroom and curled up under the cloud-like duvet, not quite willing to remove the t shirt that smelled vaguely of pot and Patrick.

Patrick got back to his hotel and after peeing got under the covers, not quite wanting to take off his t shirt that had lingering traces of Kevin engrained into it from that final hug.   
He scrolled through his phone and saw that he had about 20 messages – from Dom, Doris and Augustin.  
He opened the one from Augustin and tried to make sense of it :  
‘Have you seen who was in town and who he was on the arm of? I mean Jesus, we danced with him, and drank with him, and he’s dating Leo ‘Bounce on my Cock’ Banks! Find out more details and call me!’

Patrick assumed that Augustin was referring to something in San Francisco as he hadn’t told anyone about his trip down to LA.   
He swiped open one of the messages from Doris :  
‘Fuck! Have you called Dom? He won’t answer? Is he with you? Shit!’

The second, sent a little later from her went as follows :  
‘Dom is MIA. He must have seen the pictures.’

He hastily looked at the messages from Dom and tried to get some semblance of order:  
‘Michael was here…in the City. He didn’t come by and say hi. Too busy with his new guy!’  
There was an attached photo showing Michael and some amazingly hot, long haired guy with their arms draped over each other.

Patrick puffed out his cheeks and said ‘Oh God! Dom……’ to the pillows as he rolled over to look in more detail and get his glasses.

A further message from Dom showed the same hunk with Michael, this time Michael was cupping his chiselled jaw with his hands, their foreheads close together and a slightly dreamy, half closed eyes look on the face of the mystery guy.  
Dom’s message simply stated, ‘No mistaking that he’s here for pleasure again then!’

Patrick zoomed in more closely on the hunky guy Michael was almost nuzzling and swore, “FUCK! That’s Leo Banks! Oh my God! Jesus he is as hot as hell!”

Dom’s final message was sad, it simply said, ‘Can you call me, please?’

Patrick glanced and saw that he had like 16 missed calls from Dom’s number and felt as guilty as hell that he’d been having a lovely time with Kevin whilst Dom had clearly been in turmoil over Michael.

He knew it was late, but he rang Dom’s number and it was picked up after just a few rings:  
D : Hey….have you been avoiding me?

P: NO! Absolutely not, and I had no idea Michael was in San Francisco…I’m actually in LA.

D: Oh……with Kevin?

P: Not really, erm…..I had a meeting for a position at a company, and it’s based here, and I needed to talk through stuff, you know me, so I went out to Malibu and obviously Michael wasn’t there and then neither were Kevin or Tanya, but they arrived and we had Chinese and it was all great and then I get back here and all I can see are these messages and I’ve looked online. Jesus, there are pictures of Michael with Leo Banks everywhere!

D: Yup!......he was in the City Paddy, and he didn’t come by. I mean, I know we were no strings but…..I kind of thought he’d wanna be no strings again….not hook up with some fucking super model!

P: He’s super hot! Jesus, I mean, he’s really, really smoking hot!

D: I fucking know that! No wonder he isn’t interested in swinging by to say hi to me right?

P: Dom? Why is this bugging you so much? I mean….no strings! You are the king of no strings….I thought that’s what you wanted with Michael…no strings fun?

D: I did the first time……but then there was Malibu and……Oh Jesus Paddy….I’m crazy about him and he’s completely not into me that way and I’m fucking angry that…..that I like him so much and he didn’t come by and just say hi.

There was a loud sigh down the phone and Patrick could picture his friend giving one of his non-comital shoulder shrugs.

P: Dom, I don’t know what to say. If the two of you agreed on no strings then he isn’t doing anything wrong with this new guy…and it’s Leo Banks so…..who could blame him! But….if you’ve changed your mind you need to tell him!

D: I can’t tell him….I mean, what the hell is he gonna see in me when he can get Leo ‘I can make you cum with my smoulder’ Banks….Jesus he’s fucking hot!

P: So hot!

D: Obscenely hot!

P: Oh Jesus, I’ve just looked that that picture of Michael’s hand on his ass…..God that’s a great ass!

D: It’s a great hand!

P: Dom, you know what you need to do, and if you aren’t gonna tell him how you feel, then you have to accept him dating other guys.

D: I know! I just wish they weren’t so public…..and hot!

P: Oh God, there’s a video….have you seen the video?

D: Yup….wait until about 40 seconds in….he does a hair sweep thing..

P: FUCK ME! Oh Jesus, I mean I know Michael is sexy, but oh my God…..that has to be the sexiest thing ever…it’s like hair porn….can you imagine that hair splayed across your thighs?

D: PATRICK! I don’t want to imagine that hair splayed across anyone’s thighs……although Jesus the idea of watching him suck Michael off is kinda sexy as fuck….GOD! I’m horny and frustrated!

P; Didn’t Doris tell you to go to the steam rooms?

D: I tried….but none of them looked as good as the memory of Michael…

P: ….Dom that’s most pathetic thing I’ve heard you say…EVER! TELL HIM….or, or….

D: Or what?

P: Or I will! There…..I’m not going to allow you to wallow in this any longer. I’m going to tell Michael the next time I meet up with him that you miss him and you want him to call you!

D: Patrick! Don’t do that….I’ll talk to him. I’ll….I don’t know what I’ll do exactly, but I’ll sort it out….don’t tell him…please?

P: OK…..but don’t freak out when he dates someone else if you don’t. Dom?

D: Yeah?

P: I want you to be happy….you seemed happy with Michael…and I think he was pretty happy with you. Don’t blow it because you over react.

D: Patrick Murray! That is the pot calling the fucking kettle black if ever I heard it!

P: EXACTLY! I know! So don’t fuck up like I did and throw away your chance of being happy forever….you have to take a chance.

D: I know, but I did that with Lyn….and he didn’t want me, and it took me a long time to deal with that rejection. I don’t know if I can do that again.

P: If you need to, you will…..and we’ll all be there for you, just like last time.

D: [chuckling now] Oh yeah, Mr Let me just Fuck off to Denver while you try and get your life back together!

P: [laughing lightly back] Even from Denver I was always there for you Dom….I always will be.

They said their goodnights and Patrick set down his phone.  
The comforting and familiar scent of Kevin washed over him as he snuggled into his pillows.

___

Michael had spent Saturday sleeping and getting over a pretty bad hangover, having drained most of the mini bar upon his return to his room. 

When he switched on his laptop he was greeted with image after image of him and Leo at the Chanel event….and much as he groaned at the headlines, which were clearly insinuating that he was Leo’s latest beau, he couldn’t help but feel quite flattered at some of the descriptions of him as a ‘handsome fellow Brit’ and ‘a dark haired dreamboat’, and the general consensus was that the pair made a stunningly attractive duo….which in the images they did!

Leo had sent him an email along the lines of, ‘Sorry to let you down ‘dreamboat’, but it’s over…..I’ve found out about your other man and I’m leaving you, you slut!’

He’d succeeded in driving thoughts of Dom and the Blond Guy out of his brain, but now they had returned.   
He knew he had no right to expect Dom to not date or hook up with other people……he just didn’t want him to….and he felt illogically offended that Dom didn’t realise that!

At around about 4 in the afternoon his hangover lifted enough for him to realise he could stomach food, and he strolled a short distance to a diner to fill up on indulgent comfort food – in this case chicken friend steak, gravy and biscuits with several cups of strong, black coffee!

He hadn’t truly thought through his plans……it had seriously not occurred to him, (he realised now, somewhat big headedly) that he wouldn’t be spending all his time rolling around in bed with Dom!  
So he had an evening in San Francisco to fill. 

He didn’t want to risk contacting Patrick as he assumed he would have plans that included Dom, so he scrolled through the theatre and concert listings and found a listing for Les Miserables showing at one of the city theatres….it felt appropriate!

He made his way back to the hotel; briefly considering whether he should go and speak to Dom, but chickening out (and mentally punching himself for almost laughing at his ironic choice of phrase!)

It was a long show and he could find somewhere to eat afterwards, and then he had a flight booked back home, back to Malibu on Sunday afternoon.   
His work with Patrick at MDG was pretty much wrapped up, so he could walk away from the idea of Dom now….a clean break…..let him carry on having hook ups in steam rooms with young, blond haired guys……he’d forget him and eventually move on.  
He’d become like Leo….happy to accept that the right guy wasn’t out there for him and become master of his own companionship.

God it sounded boring!

And he was horny!

He showered and relieved the pressure in his cock, although imagining Dom’s mouth around him as he spurted his release beneath the water did little to persuade him he would be able to get over Dom and move on!


	36. Looking at resolve FINALLY weakening!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emergency for Kevin makes him reach out to Patrick...and of course he goes running straight to him.  
> Poor Frankie (don't panic, he'll be fine!)...but he serves his purpose of FINALLY getting these guyz together!  
> Hurray!!!!!!

Sunday morning dawned and Patrick was woken from his sleep by his phone.  
What he’d assumed was his alarm turned out to be an incoming call and once he saw the caller ID he swiped it up:  
“Hey! Good morning, this is a pleasan…….”

He didn’t manage to finish his statement as he heard Kevin’s cracking sobs on the other end of the phone,  
“Patrick? It’s Frankie….Oh God…I need to leave the phone free in case the vet calls, but……Patrick can you…..”  
Now it was Kevin’s turn to be cut off in mid flow by Patrick’s fully awake and alert reply,  
“I’m on my way Kevin.”

He called down to arrange a cab then showered and threw on clothes, packing up his case and getting himself down into the foyer in less than 30 minutes.  
Just less than an hour later he was outside Kevin’s house, he removed his wheeled case and ran around to the back where he found Kevin, seated on the steps of his deck, head in hands, his body wracked with sobs, his eyes swimming with tears which had made trails down his cheeks.

“Kevin?” Patrick approached him cautiously, but Kevin stood and flung himself at him, burying his face in the warm, still smooth chin of Patrick, despite him not having shaved that morning!

“I didn’t know who else to call…..Tanya left early to go antiquing…she always does,” he rambled as he pressed into Patrick’s comforting familiarity.  
Patrick made soft ‘shushing’ noises and gently rocked Kevin’s beautiful body in his arms before dragging his face back, wiping his tear streaked cheeks with his thumbs and encouraging him gently to explain what had happened.

Through hiccoughing sobs he told him the brief details; he’d woken up to find Frankie lying on the floor in the kitchen, he was twitching and struggling to breath, and making no attempt to stand up. So he’d rushed him to the veterinary centre where a quickly sedated Frankie had been scanned to reveal that he’d swallowed the used tea bag Kevin had dropped the night before. The odd design of the bag, and the string attached had got tangled and lodged somewhere in his wind pipe and he needed surgery instantly to try and remove it.

Patrick tried to think logically.  
The fact that Frankie was receiving surgery was good, and the fact that Kevin had returned home rather than wait was surely good news.

Kevin went on to sniff and explain that the surgery was going to take around 3 hours minimum, depending on where the blockage had got to and how Frankie responded to the anaesthesia, so the vets had told him he had to come back home and they’d call with updates.  
Patrick took stock and continued to rub soothing circles with his palms across Kevin’s broad, firm back.  
He was wearing a hastily thrown on blue, linen shirt over his tee from the previous evening.  
A tiny part of Patrick wondered if he’d been reluctant to remove it for the same reason as he had been his own, which he was wearing again this morning!

“OK, well, I think you should come inside, and I’ll make some coffee and I’ll wait with you,” he soothed, enjoying the fact that Kevin was leaning fully into him, and seemed to be taking comfort from his closeness, and judging by his nuzzling face, from the warmth or scent of his neck.  
Kevin nodded a little and assented to being lead by the shoulders up the decking steps and into his home.  
Patrick set him down on one of the grey sofas and made him curl up, covering him with a striped, woollen throw as he reluctantly allowed Patrick to leave him and flick on the coffee machine.

Patrick glanced over; Kevin looked so sad, and his mind flashed to an image of him maybe looking like this upon realising that Patrick had gone and walked out on what they had. His heart leapt for him….he wanted to be close to him again, but not like this!

He opened a couple of cabinets and drawers before locating mugs and grinds and left the machine percolating away while he returned to Kevin, kneeling on the floor beside the sofa and stroking Kevin’s soft, bristled cheek and hair, making the Englishman’s eyes drift closed.  
They remained that way for several minutes, Patrick tenderly comforting Kevin, and Kevin letting him.

Kevin made a whimper of frustration when Patrick ceased his touches and stood up, “I’ll be back, I’m just getting coffee …shushh, you stay right there.”

Carrying 2 mugs Patrick set them down on the large, driftwood coffee table and scooted himself to sit so that he could rest Kevin’s bent legs across his own thighs, allowing his fingertips to trail softly against the wool of the blanket and his torso beneath.  
Patrick took several sips of his coffee and glanced at his watch, trying to consider the time frame in all of this.  
Kevin stirred slightly at the movement and reached across to sip his hot drink.

“What time did they take Frankie into the operating room?” Patrick asked gently.  
Kevin sipped further on his mug, the liquid felt soothing inside him and against his dry throat, “About 9 by the time we’d signed all the forms and done the blood work and stuff.”  
“OK, so that was a little over 2 hours ago, how about you drink this and try and get a little rest while you wait….don’t panic,” he could see Kevin indicating his phone and could piece together his thoughts, “Leave your phone out here and I’ll wake you up as soon as it’s the veterinarians….I promise.”

“I don’t know if I can trust them...he's my boy!” Kevin stated sombrely.  
Patrick gulped and thought about that phrase, “Yeah, you do! Just go with it, trust them…..stupid stuff happens when you don’t trust people who you should!” he said, softly.  
Kevin sniffed again and slumped a little on the sofa.  
He’d been sat on the deck for a while and he hadn’t realised how cool it was until he came into the warmth. And curled across Patrick’s comforting body, listening to his soft, soothing voice was like a balm to his emotional turmoil.

“You’ll wake me?” he pressed, and saw Patrick’s gentle nod. “And you’ll stay until they call?”  
“I’m going nowhere,” he replied and gently recovered Kevin’s shoulders with the cover, grazing his knuckles up and down Kevin’s shins to soothe him into an exhausted nap.

Patrick was still scrolling through his own messages from the previous day, trying to make sense of the whole Dom and Michael ‘thing’…..and the sight of so many attractive images of Michael and Leo Banks in the media was definitely a distraction as Kevin slumbered beside him.  
Part of the situation made him think back to their break up…..Patrick had been furious about Kevin being on Grindr….even though his profile did clearly show that he never investigated or swiped.  
He couldn’t help but think that his own zooming in image searches now over Leo Banks’ delicious backside and wolfish smoulder were probably about as innocent as that whole thing had been; potentially anyway….until he’d pushed a conversation that, as Kevin had said, should NEVER have happened on that first night.

He’d messaged Doris and Dom to explain where he was, and they’d both sent messages back hoping that everything went well.  
He’d also sent a more formal email through to 8D explaining that although he’d felt like the job would be perfect for him, and he appreciated their time in seeing him, he was looking into a position based in San Francisco.  
He hadn’t received anything formally through from Tru Gaming as yet, but he trusted Kevin to keep his word.

Kevin’s phone began to buzz with an incoming call about an hour and a half after Kevin had drifted to sleep. He woke up with a start and stared somewhat disbelieving at Patrick who was holding the phone.  
“It’s them. You OK to answer it?” he asked, looking intently at Kevin’s terrified expression.

“What if he’s…….I can’t…..,” Kevin stammered, covering his face with his palms.

“OK, I’ll get it. Just hang in there,” and he pressed his lips together as he answered the call, “This is Kevin Matheson’s phone, I’m his friend, Patrick.”

Kevin felt like his world was moving in slow motion as he listened and at the same time tried not to listen to the call.  
He felt Patrick’s hand, firm and insistent on his chin and looked up to see him smiling warmly and giving him the thumbs up sign while he continued to talk on the phone, “So that’s great….and OK, so not this evening…..and he’s fine….can you send a picture to this phone….just to reassure him….would that be OK? Thank you so much.”

Patrick put the phone down on the table and reached across to engulf Kevin’s panting body. This time the tears were on both of their cheeks.

“He’s OK?” Kevin asked repeatedly, whilst Patrick reassured him every time with a “Yeah, he’s doing great.”  
Patrick managed to explain the gist of the discussion – that Frankie would be better off not seeing Kevin while he got over the operation because it would over excite him and risk popping his stitches, but they’d send though a picture for him and he could go see him tomorrow.

After what felt like an eternity of their arms and torsos being clamped together Kevin pulled back slightly and felt his hand reach up to cup the nape of Patrick’s neck in his wide palm.  
“Thank you,” he whispered huskily.

Patrick rested his nose against Kevin’s, glorying in the feeling of the firm fingers softly tangling in the short wisps of hair that he’d allowed to grow over his collar since moving back to San Francisco.  
“Any time Kevin…..I’ll do anything to make things right with you,” he whispered, feeling his eyes moisten further, but this time not due to worry or relief for Frankie’s well being.

Kevin could feel his resolve weakening still further, and the knowledge that Patrick had dropped everything and hurried to be with him was tipping him closer and closer to the edge of falling all over again.  
When he tilted his chin fractionally and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of his nose he knew he didn’t want to hold back any longer.

“Patrick…..come here….kiss me,” Kevin murmured, his lips seeking out their desired location as they angled their faces in an almost practised, if a little rusty, manner.

Their first kiss had been hasty; Kevin pressing up against him in a bathroom.

Their second had been fuelled by lust; Kevin again closing the distance between them in the MDG offices before they’d lost control.

Then there was that kiss on Patrick’s stoop in the City….it had been a true connection kiss, although Patrick’s arm in a sling had somewhat hindered their passion, briefly!

This kiss however was the first of a new future of kisses for Kevin and Patrick.

Their lips were soft, tentative, almost scared to break the moment, or push too far too soon.  
But Kevin’s hands at Patrick’s neck and back were confident, and assured.  
Patrick’s own hands had moved to grip Kevin’s bicep and one had drifted up to the soft, salt- and -pepper blond of his hair, stroking it lovingly in the most natural and tender way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, Kevin and Patrick making up for lost time next....#loadsofsmut


	37. Looking at a shit load of smut!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title says...this is the Kevin and Patrick smut.....FINALLY!  
> Enjoy!

Neither man would ever know what happened to switch that moment of tender exploration into groin flaming passion, but as their lips parted, and their tongues sought out and slid against the other it was as if every barrier between them had been broken down.  
Panting desire replaced chaste tenderness.   
Teeth and tongues turned whimpers into groans and their hands began to grasp and slide beneath clothing.

Kevin knelt up on the sofa and urged Patrick into the same position, his strong arms dragging their bodies together and supporting Patrick as he tore off his hoodie. Patrick’s hands slid across to urge Kevin’s shirt from his shoulders and he tugged at the cuffs as he threw it away, before dragging his t shirt over his head.  
Patrick couldn’t prevent the sob that escaped his mouth; he’d fantasised about that amazing chest for so long, and here it was, directly in front of him, and his hands could explore it all over again….so could his mouth!

Patrick swarmed his palms across the smooth musculature that was ‘Matheson’ and dropped his hungry mouth to nibble against his neck which still bore traces of his cologne from the previous night.  
Kevin sobbed in complete surrender as he felt the familiar mouth locate the same places on his neck that had always reduced him to a melting wreck.

“Oh God…Patrick, don’t stop….pleeease,” he whimpered, dropping his neck back and allowing his lover greater access to his stubbled neck.  
Patrick licked and nibbled his way around his ears….those amazing, sweet, beautiful tuggable ears, and continued his mission down the amazingly well defined pecs until he located one of Kevin’s nipples, which he sucked into the warm wetness of his mouth and lapped into a bullet, hard point.

Kevin’s knees had slightly collapsed and Patrick was now almost on all fours bending into him to reach his tantalisingly smooth skin. Kevin’s hands had slid beneath Patrick’s t shirt and were beginning to toy with the belt of his jeans.  
Patrick pulled back and steadied them both with a firm clasp of Kevin’s jaw in his hand.

“Tell me this isn’t a relief fuck because your dog isn’t dead,” he stated, but not preventing Kevin’s fingers from continuing to work on his belt buckle.  
Kevin grinned slightly; that quirky, self confident and almost smug little grin of his that drove Patrick wild; “It’s not that……I just…..I want you….always, and I’m not wasting another minute,” he stated, kissing him deeply and tenderly on the mouth.   
Patrick sobbed into the kiss and returned it willingly.

“Even though you’ve just promised to give me a job hours away?” Patrick murmured as they struggled to stand up, not wanting to part their lips for even a second as they tried to make up for lost time.  
Kevin grunted a response, “We’ll sort something out,” as they moved, crab-like and connected at the mouth towards Kevin’s bedroom.

Once inside Patrick toed off his New Balance trainers and grinned against the onslaught of Kevin’s persistent tongue as he pushed him back against the wall and tugged him out of his top.  
“God, do you have any idea how much your body turns me on,” Kevin hissed as his hands gripped and stroked Patrick’s shoulders and torso and his lips travelled down Patrick’s neck, kissing and sucking on his deliciously soft earlobe.  
Kevin’s hand slid up to stroke the peachy skin of the other ear between his thumb and forefingers and he let out a small growl.   
He thought he’d never do this again after that fateful goodbye….and yet here he was, with a panting and delirious Patrick clearly rock hard and desperate for him.

“I want you,” Kevin hissed, licking into Patrick’s open, begging mouth and flicking his gaze towards the bed.  
Patrick pushed him firmly back, moving away from the wall and backing towards the large, still messy mattress after Kevin had not bothered making it in his haste to get Frankie treated.

“I only want this if it’s really what you want,” Patrick stated, holding his palm firmly against Kevin’s chest. “I don’t want a no strings fiasco like Dom and Michael!”  
Kevin smirked and nodded, “Neither do I Patrick,” and he unfastened his trousers, wriggling them down his legs and kicking them off as he pushed Patrick back onto the mattress.

Kevin crawled his way up and straddled himself across Patrick’s slim waist, his own erection evident, as was the stiffness beneath Patrick’s still partially fastened trousers.  
“I’ve forgotten how great you feel!” Patrick purred as he slid his hands around Kevin’s shoulders and kissed his way from one side of his chest to the other.  
Kevin ground his hips purposefully against Patrick’s and gasped as his talented mouth located his nipple again and playfully bit down on it, the way Kevin had always enjoyed him doing.

“It’s been a very long time….for me,” Kevin moaned as he grabbed hold of Patrick’s wrists and pressed them back against his padded headboard.   
Patrick gazed up, adoringly at Kevin’s darkly dilated gaze, “Then we’ll take it as slow as you want,” he said.  
“It’s not slow that I’m worried about,” Kevin growled, snarling a string of expletives which were new to Patrick’s American ears as he latched onto one of his nipples and lapped at it exquisitely, mimicking how Kevin knew he liked to do to other parts of his body from memory.

Kevin released Patrick’s wrists and swiftly moved backwards down the bed, this time his fidgety fingers persisted in their attempts to remove Patrick’s belt, and he wriggled the trousers down Patrick’s legs, kissing and commenting on his ‘muscle man thighs’ as he did so.  
Patrick was pleased that he’d at least had the time to put on fresh briefs, and he lay back, watching Kevin’s eyes roving across his body, breathing shallowly as his eyes lingered on the bulging mound pressing against the elastic of his underwear.

Moving back up to caress Patrick’s cheek, Kevin lay beside the man he completely loved and adored.   
If their eyes could have narrated then the audience would have vomited with the amount of sweet, tender words being shared.

“I’ve missed you,” Kevin whispered as he pressed his lips against Patrick’s and sobbed the tongue that was forthcoming into his mouth, allowing Patrick to plunder and explore as his hands slid across and around his hips, sliding one finger expertly beneath the waist of his boxers.  
“You have no idea!” replied Patrick, and he seriously considered how long it had been since he’d had really good, really hot, really passion fuelled sex.

With Ritchie it had been good…..very even and mutual and a little bit ‘vanilla’….and vanilla was OK when it was quality vanilla!

But he and Kevin had always been more Baskin and Robbins….all 31 flavours available at all times and never quite sure of which delicious one you’d get, just knowing that each mouthful would be sweet and perfect.

“What do you want?” Patrick asked, his eyes signalling seduction, his hips thrusting forwards on impulse and his hands trailing to cup Kevin’s beautifully sculpted arse.  
“I just want you……just everything with you,” Kevin sobbed as Patrick slid beneath the fabric of his underwear and wrapped his hand around Kevin’s almost granite-like cock.  
Kevin assisted by dragging down his boxers and moved his hands to free Patrick from his remaining item of clothing, swallowing a gasp at the sight of Patrick’s perfect cock.

Patrick himself was gazing down at Kevin, “God, I’d forgotten about this,” he smiled, as he moved his grip up and then down to pull back Kevin’s foreskin and reveal his leaking slit. “It’s just too teasing…..like it’s hiding away…too shy to play!”

Kevin whimpered and breathed sharply in an attempt to control his almost animalistic need to wank himself desperately against Patrick’s teasing palm.  
“It’s not shy….and it likes playing!” 

Patrick dipped his head down, keeping eye contact with Kevin, and maintaining his firm insistent grip on his erection.  
Kevin’s biteable abs quivered as Patrick’s mouth wandered across the smooth skin, his tongue dipped into his belly button before he trailed his tongue, painstakingly slowly down the thin strip of taught skin before reaching the soft, downy hairs surrounding his shaft.  
Kevin was mesmerised by him all over again.   
Patrick drove him wild, he always had done.

Patrick licked his lower lip before flicking out his tongue across the exposed tip of Kevin’s cock, feeling him tense and thrust his hips forwards as he hissed his breath through gritted teeth.  
“Jesus, Patrick…..please,” Kevin whimpered, flicking his gaze between Patrick’s teasing mouth and his aching prick.  
Patrick looked longingly at the perfection that was Kevin’s cock and groaned deeply as he engulfed it into his mouth, remembering it’s shape and taste…a unique flavour that was always and forever linked to Kevin.  
Kevin’s neck melted on his shoulders and he growled out his feelings about what Patrick’s talented mouth was delivering to him,  
“Fuck, Patrick….that feels so good…..I won’t last though…..Patrick, Babes…..I’m gonna…..Oh God…yessssss!”

Kevin clearly hadn’t been joking about how long it had been for him and how close he was, because Patrick had barely got into a rhythm before Kevin’s fingers tangled through his hair and he felt his hips thrusting as he took him deep into his throat and tightened his lips as Kevin pulsed his hot cum and bit down on the pillow in a bid to stifle his gurgling shout of delight.

Patrick wormed his way back up to join Kevin’s blissed out, dreamy eyed face and pressed soft kisses to his lips, feeling him start to respond as he came down from his euphoric high.  
“You weren’t joking about the fast and furious part were you?” Patrick teased, his eyes playful and warm as his hands stroked along Kevin’s body.

“I’m sorry….that was just the most intense thing that’s happened to me in…..fucking years!” he explained, not seeming embarrassed….. as he shouldn’t.  
“Then I’m glad it was me who gave it to you,” Patrick whispered, stroking his nose against the delightfully moist skin along Kevin’s collar bone.

Kevin breathed in and rolled over, taking Patrick with him so that he was almost planking over his lover.  
“It would only ever have been you, Patrick,” his eyes were powerfully soft and sensual gazing down. “You once asked if you could trust me to be faithful to you……and I have been…it was so easy, because there has only been one person I’ve truly loved.”

Patrick felt his eyes moistening as he stared up into the intense blue eyes of Kevin. His lips sought out Patricks cheeks, eyelids, each lip in turn and finally rested on the tip of his nose.

“I love you Kevin…..I’m so sorry for everything…”  
He was cut off in his speech by Kevin’s huskily whispered, “Shhhhh” and by his lips pressing repeatedly against his own.  
“I don’t need sorry, Patrick. I just need to know you want me….and everything that comes with me….I need you to want an us this time as much as I do…..do you want that?” he asked.  
“God, yes! Kevin I want you so badly,” Patrick replied before having the breath sucked from his lungs by Kevin’s firm, delving kiss.

His hands angled Patrick’s neck to leave his mouth completely perfectly positioned for him to plunder it and lick into the warm wetness.  
Their hands had switched from soothing strokes to passion fuelled grasps with nails digging, teeth nipping and arms flexing in desire.  
Their breaths had become uncontrolled, each one murmuring, trance like about ‘how good it feels,’ and ‘how much they need’ the other person, and ‘how amazing’ it all was.

Both men were rock solid.

Kevin’s hand squirmed it’s way to circle around Patrick’s length, both groaning at the sensation as he moved along and down, ghosting his thumb across Patrick’s leaking slit and using some of his sticky juices to lubricate his action.  
“I should find something…..and I’m guessing quickly,” Kevin grinned, meeting Patrick’s lustfilled gaze as he pressed back on his palms and reached over to his bedside cabinet.

He quickly located lube but had to rummage longer to locate condoms, placing a couple on the cabinet top before returning his attentions to Patrick, specifically his pert, crimson coloured nipples which he lapped at, suckled and twisted in his firm fingers.

Patrick hissed and threw his head back against the pillows, loving the familiarity of allowing Kevin to pleasure him. His now throbbing cock was pressed against the firm abdomen of Kevin, his muscled abs adding a degree of additional wondrousness to the pressure as Kevin slid against him, moving his mouth and tongue across his now bullet hard nipples.

Kevin’s own erection was finding some friction by moving against Patrick’s thigh….those gorgeous, muscular thighs that Patrick thought were his worst asset, but Kevin had always adored – right from that first sight of him straddling that fucking torpedo casing!

“God, Kevin….I need you…….will you? Please?......just take care of me….” He hissed, panting as Kevin’s mouth sucked and bit pleasing welts into his shoulders and neck.  
Kevin snarled slightly as he reached back across for the lube and squeezed some across his fingers as he adjusted his position and hoisted up one of Patrick’s thighs.  
He glanced down and inhaled sharply at the sight of Patrick’s puckered entrance, perfectly displayed and inviting him in. 

He slid his fingers against Patrick’s seam, watching his reactions and smiling as the man beneath him surrendered completely to his touch.  
“Fuuuuuck, Kevin…….God I love you,” he sobbed, pulsing his hips fractionally to encourage Kevin’s expert fingers to continue their attention to his entrance.  
Kevin pressed and swirled against the place Patrick was so desperate for him to be and licked his tongue into Patrick’s waiting, hungry mouth.

With a deep growl from them both he pressed one of his firm digits inside and gloried in Patrick’s tightness as he stroked inside his lover, feeling him start to relax around the intrusion and allowing his thighs to widen further as their tongues continued to explore each other, reluctant or incapable of wrenching apart.

Kevin started to build up a deep thrusting rhythm with his finger and quickly slid a second finger into Patrick, spurred on by his hands clutching at his shoulders and waist.  
Both men were hissing and whispering a range of sweet, beautiful sentiments and blasphemous outpourings as Kevin pumped and twisted his hand.   
Patrick was in ecstasy……reliving a whole body memory he thought would forever remain in the past.

“God Kevin, I want you……fuck me….NOW!” Patrick begged and sobbed as he felt Kevin remove his hand and reach across, tearing open the condom packet with his teeth before covering himself and positioning himself nose to nose with Patrick.

“I love you,” Kevin whispered huskily, needily, before pressing himself slickly and deeply into Patrick’s waiting heat.  
Patrick didn’t attempt to stifle his shout of delight; he pressed his head back into the pillow briefly as Kevin slid his hands under his knees and hitched them higher before withdrawing slightly and thrusting home……home!

Capturing Kevin’s neck with his palm they kissed, deeply, sensually, with Patrick mimicking the action of Kevin’s cock in his ass with his tongue.  
They developed a perfect rhythm, slow, deep, penetrating.   
It was as though Kevin had been taking Patrick in that way and doing nothing but that his whole life. 

He had no idea how he was managing to hold out; the tight, incredible heat of Patrick was exquisite.  
Patrick moved his hips to match every thrust of Kevin’s cock.   
This felt so right….it always had….he’d hated anal penetration until that first time Kevin has slid into him….then, and only then had it finally felt right….and now, oh dear God it felt so right.

They increased their pace, Kevin pressing Patrick’s leg higher and wider, almost trying to create a boneless connection between them.   
He pushed back on his powerful arms and looked down at where they were joined, sobbing and swearing out his complete adoration of Patrick fucking Murray as he watched his thick length disappear inside him again and again.

Patrick clutched at Kevin’s arms and buttocks, spurring him on to fuck him harder, deeper, faster and make him cum.

“Are you close?” Kevin breathlessly and slightly hazily sobbed, seeing Patrick’s nod and grunted affirmation.  
“I want you to come inside me, don’t stop fucking me….please…..God Kevin, yeeees!” he almost screamed out his delight as he felt Kevin’s prick swell and twitch within him, hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he fucked and fucked his ‘beautiful Patrick’.

The sensation combined with Kevin’s firm grip around his own straining cock caused him to spurt his copious release across their bellies, Kevin dipped his head and lapped out his tongue to capture some of the creamy ribbons in his mouth as they erupted from Patrick.

Panting, satiated and both looking completely debouched they collapsed side by side, their hands refusing to leave the sweat covered skin of the other, their eyes moist and sparkling as they gazed adoringly at each other.

“I missed you!” Patrick mumbled, pressing his lips against Kevin’s temple.

“You have no idea!” Kevin murmured back, stroking his palm along Patrick’s smooth chest and finding his earlobe, rubbing the soft skin of it between his thumb and finger.

Patrick smiled into his blue eyes.  
“You’re perfect, Patrick Murray,” Kevin said softly.

Patrick’s eyes swam with adoration, but he quirked his lips into a sly smirk, “You say that now….but what about when Frankie’s back….I mean…..am I gonna be back to being the annoying cunt who deserted you?”

Kevin pursed his lips, “Let’s find out! But right now, you are definitely not annoying in any shape or form…..and you’re a perfectly formed distraction to my dog!” and with that he slithered onto his belly and flicked his neck towards Patrick. “And I think you’re able to comfort me in lots of ways that Frankie just can’t!”

Patrick inhaled sharply and took the invitation, slithering down the bed, allowing his palms to travel over Kevin’s perfectly sculpted back, parting his ass and licking firmly along his moist seam.

The flavour and scent of Kevin was like a kick to his olfactory senses; so familiar and heady.   
He bit back tears as he allowed his tongue to work it’s way against Kevin’s tightness, feeling him tense and push back against him, squirming deliciously to angle Patrick’s tongue exactly where he wanted and needed it.  
Patrick coaxed his arse cheeks wider apart and delved his tongue and jaw into his work, he toyed and teased with Kevin’s entrance, feeling it soften and submit to his ministrations. 

Kevin pushed himself onto his elbows and knees, allowing room for his cock which was already hardening and standing proudly from his torso.  
Patrick’s tongue was varied and perfect; sometimes a hard intrusion, sometimes a soft, velvety caress.   
It took in the silken skin of his sack; the firm but yielding skin leading to his hole and then of course his perfectly pliant entrance.

Kevin had not been with another man since Patrick, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t indulged himself, and his own fingers had been the giver of his release on multiple occasions. Each time however it had been Patrick in his imagination giving the sensations….and Jesus, Kevin realised he had a shit imagination!

“Oh God, Patriiiiick……Oh God, don’t stop…..please,” Kevin whined, gritting his teeth and allowing his head to melt slightly on his shoulders as Patrick gave a particularly powerful intrusion with his talented tongue.

Patrick had no intention of stopping…..this was something he’d fantasised about….a LOT!

Kevin’s languid, writhing body beneath him; his perfect taste and aroma surrounding his senses; and the knowledge that he was reducing the man he loved to a crumbling, incoherent mess was arousing him more that he’d thought possible.

He was rock hard and desperate to take Kevin, to fuck him into the mattress and make him scream his name…..but he also knew that Kevin hadn’t been with anyone in a LONG time….oh Jesus, he’d be so tight!!!

“Can I fuck you?” Patrick moaned, his tongue laving and diving again and again into his greedy entrance.

Kevin tried to reply, but was seriously struggling to make his mouth form words and equally unable to make his neck obey his brain.   
He managed to shout out a response when Patrick paused briefly and the “Oh Fuck YES, Patrick, YES!” had barely left his lips before Patrick had slid on a condom and was lining up his cock, notching his head inside Kevin’s hole.

He intended to take it steady, to enter Kevin slowly and make the discomfort as minimal as possible, but Kevin clutched around and grasped one of his thighs and hissed, “Jesus Patrick, just fill me!”  
Patrick didn’t need to be asked twice and he slammed his full, not inconsiderate length inside the tight heat of Kevin, causing them both to shriek and tense in alarm and pleasure.

Kevin had arched back, almost kneeling upright in an attempt to control the amount of Patrick’s cock he was taking.   
Patrick reached his hands around Kevin's hips; fingers digging into the firm skin and muscle and by dropping down slightly was able to thrust upwards, destroying any attempt Kevin had thought possible to limit the amount of Patrick ramming into him. However, the slight discomfort and stretching to his backside was like a drug and he widened his thighs, leaning his hands against the padding of his headboard as Patrick almost brutally pounded into him, panting with every thrust that he “Loves…..fucking….your….perfect…..ass!”

Kevin was way beyond ecstasy.  
He was flying high above it, looking down on the perfect bliss that was Patrick Murray and Kevin Matheson reunited.

Feeling a slight tremor around his length Patrick hissed, “Are you gonna cum?” and received a beautifully uncontrolled, “Oh God Yeah…” before he reached around and gripped Kevin’s steel-like shaft, pulsing his own release inside him as he encouraged Kevin to cum across the bed covers, his own belly and chest.

Withdrawing and coaxing Kevin onto his back he removed and discarded the condom before moving his body up and almost forcing Kevin to take his still salty cock into his mouth.  
Kevin was almost delirious with blissed out endorphins, but lapped at and sucked Patrick’s softening cock clean before Patrick moved down to lick the remains of Kevin’s salty cream from his belly and chest.

Both were now panting, grinning wrecks.   
They stared at each other for what felt like a long time but was probably just mere minutes.

“You’re so much naughtier than I ever thought you would be, Patrick Murray,” grinned Kevin, stroking his beautiful, but mussed up hair softly.  
“And you’re so much more forgiving than I ever thought you would be Kevin Matheson,” Patrick smiled back.

The last time they’d fallen asleep in together Kevin had woken to find the bed beside him empty….he swallowed and felt a tightening in his chest as he considered where they were now.  
“Please tell me you’ll be here in the morning,” Kevin whispered, nosing against Patrick’s damp forehead.

Patrick drew back and tenderly soothed Kevin’s cheek with his palm, “I’m going nowhere…..I promise.”

After about a hundred further kisses, and then a thousand more they fell asleep in each others’ arms.


	38. Looking at competition for the perfect couple of the year award!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Patrick have their happy ending....so now Dom needs his...  
> Leo can't stop himself getting involved.....he is the perfect man....wonder if he'll ever find someone and settle down?!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lula....there are loads of bits relating to the whole Leo and Davy story in here....I couldn't resist writing my boyz in with my guyz!!!  
> Oh, and since Michael is based on Richard Armitage there is a little North and South shout out in there too!

On Sunday morning Dom rolled over in bed and reached out instinctively, groaning when he realised his dream containing Michael Firth had been just that, and he wasn’t curled up with his head resting on the dark haired ‘dreamboat’s’ chest.

Michael woke in his hotel bed with fantasies of Dom glancing over his shoulder as he fucked into him fresh in his mind….which might explain the raging erection currently tent poling the covers.

Leo Banks rolled over in his crisp linens and smiled out at the Fall sunshine.  
He was glad he’d decided to spend a few more days in San Francisco.  
He enjoyed the city; it felt more European and easy to navigate than other US cities.  
His stomach growled in hunger – a super model he may be, but he could usually eat a horse at any point in the day….but especially at breakfast time.

He showered and got dressed in casual jeans, an obscenely well fitted black t shirt and added a casual, boxy grey leather jacket he’d picked up on a recent shoot for YSL.  
Despite having the same swarthy facial hair, long, luscious dark locks and incredible physique, somehow he was able to wander down through the foyer without gathering too much hullabaloo; in stark contrast to his appearance at the Chanel fashion event.  
Making a quick enquiry at the taxi rank outside (he’d long since realised that if he needed actual ‘city’ information he should avoid hotel concierges, who invariably made calls to the media following his enquiries about the best places to eat) he checked on his phone for directions; a 16 minute walk at his lengthy strides would probably be 12, and the promise of the very best Sunday morning breakfast in the city was worth the short walk.  
He donned his sunglasses and strode off having quickly memorised the route, taking the opportunity to draw deeply on a cigarette as an ‘aperitif’; the simple street layout was helpful and he located the suggested diner quickly, grabbing himself a stool at the counter and ordering his usual plethora of breakfast dishes; granola, fruit salad with greek yoghurt, bagels with eggs and smoked salmon, coffee and cranberry juice.  
One of the joys of being in America was that his huge appetite and meal choices were never queried and he tucked in with his usual enthusiasm.

Having settled his check, and leaving a generous gratuity he left the diner and looked around for somewhere to check his phone having received a message through regarding some gallery event he was due to attend in a couple of weeks.  
He needed to agree to them displaying some images of him that had been taken by a renowned photographer…..pretty artistic and raunchy as far as he could recall, but he’d asked for a reminder.

It was crisp and warm in the sun, and he spotted a sort of outdoor seating arrangement a little further up the street. A couple of older guys were seated at one end playing backgammon and he nodded in acknowledgement as he sat, lit a further cigarette to complete his breakfast and scrolled through the images, removing his sunglasses to check what was and wasn’t visible in each of the suggested photographs.  
His bare torso and a tuft or three of his pubes, and his back complete with his arse; they were fine, and a third image of him snarling towards the lens, which was one of his personal favourite images of himself.  
He grinned and tapped out an acceptance and virtual signature to the agreement and sent it whilst slipping back on his shades and enjoying drawing his nicotine fix deep into his lungs.  
It was only then that he noticed the small business adjacent to the seating area.  
The blue neon sign wasn’t ignited, but it displayed the name ‘Dom’s’.

Leo wandered over and looked more closely at the small window and read the menu and pricing displayed there. With a small quirk to his lips he realised this was the chicken window Michael had spoken about when discussing the guy he had fallen for….the Dom of the neon sign!

He also glanced across and recognised the door to the apartment he knew belonged to Dom based on Michael’s lengthy and slightly alcohol and lust infused ramblings.  
Leo had given up on finding love himself….although if he happened to catch the eye of some slender, blue-eyed boy who happened to like indulging in a bit of light domination that could change…maybe!  
However, Michael was clearly besotted with this man, and based on what he’d shared with him the only thing holding him back was his concern that they’d initially agreed on a no strings fling.

Well……maybe Dom needed to be told that Michael had changed his mind…..and then Dom could take it from there……and he’d stumbled across this place almost by chance…..so fate seemed to be intent on somebody doing something!

He glanced at his watch, it was after 10.30am, that wasn’t too early….although if Michael was correct the guy might not even be home from his hook up with the Blond Guy. However as Leo paced along the few steps to the reinforced door he heard a definite thumping tread on what was presumably a staircase behind; only one set of footsteps!  
Leo slid his shades back on and gave the door a loud, confident knock, resting his palm against the wall and dropping his hip as he hooked his thumb into his jeans pocket.  
He heard a bolt being slid across as well as the rattle of a key being twisted before the door opened to reveal an older, slightly silver-haired fox of a guy with penetrating blue eyes, soft, tousled hair and a lush moustache.

“Can I help you?” 

Leo smiled and removed his sunglasses, causing Dom to roll his eyes and change his expression of mild confusion to one of fizzing annoyance, which made Leo grin all the more broadly.  
“I think you can….or rather, I think you can help a friend of mine,” Leo stated in his clipped English accent.

Dom was momentarily and somewhat dreamily aware that the guy standing on his doorstep was as sexy as fuck in the flesh and sounded even more delectably edible than Michael!  
He needed to focus though…..this was the guy who was now fucking Michael…..why the fuck was he here…surely not to boast about it, or ask for tips?!?

“Based on the pictures doing the social media rounds and in pretty much every newspaper in the city I’d say you didn’t need any help with Michael,” and Dom made to close the door.  
Leo held out his hand and pressed against the door, but not in a threatening manner.  
“Dom, you’re right about that; I don’t need any help. Michael is an old friend of mine….we bumped into each other at the airport,” Leo explained, moving his hand to sweep through his luscious hair as Dom ceased his pressure on the door. “And he’s not THAT kind of old friend.”

Dom looked at the tall, swarthy man infront of him, slightly breathless at the live action replay of the ‘hair sweep’ video.

“Can we talk?” Leo asked flicking his head towards the streetside seating.  
Dom considered the events of the past couple of days; what did he have to lose by sitting and talking to a hot as fuck super-model for a while?

“Do you want some coffee, or tea?” Dom offered.  
“I’d love a decent tea...maybe peppermint?” he replied and wandered across to the wooden seats, folding his long limbs into the booth and settling with that louche, relaxed elegance he portrayed so easily on various advertising hoardings and magazine pages.

Dom couldn’t quite get a handle on his emotions.  
On the one hand he was frustrated and bitter about the fact that Michael had been in the city and had been out with the guy outside rather than himself; but on the other hand he was quite seriously considering whether Leo might be here based on Michael’s recommendation for a no strings hook up! 

If that was the case how should he feel?

Flattered that he’d clearly got a decent write up?

Or devastated because it truly meant that Michael only saw him in a casual capacity?

Although the possibility of a little bedtime fun with Leo Banks was pretty erotic he had to admit......

Carrying a mug of tea for Leo and one of coffee for himself he ventured outside and seated himself opposite the sexy model.  
Leo didn’t waste any time, “I’m here because Michael is a good friend, and he’s unhappy…..and it’s because of you!”  
Dom raised his eyebrows above the rim of his mug.

“Why is HE unhappy? If anyone has the right to be unhappy it’s me!” he replied.  
Leo Picked up instantly on Dom’s defensive and irritated demeanour and the slightly hurt look behind his eyes…..Christ, those were REALLY blue eyes!

“Why should you be unhappy and him not? You do realise he only came to the City to surprise you….but it was him who got the surprise when he saw you hooking up with some Blond Guy….that’s the only reason he came out with me on Friday night…..and I should say spent most of it talking about you!” Leo explained, flashing Dom an almost illegal quirk of his lips hidden in his dark, trimmed stubble.

Dom tried to focus on Leo’s words rather than how delectably sexy and kissable his mouth looked.

“Wait! What do you mean I was hooking up with a Blond Guy? I was here, working on Friday night!” Dom retorted….he’d have to break down what Leo had said into one piece of information at a time…..and he was holding out on the fact that it really seemed to be that Leo was telling him that Michael liked him enough to talk about him all evening!

Leo shrugged and sipped more of his tea. “I wasn’t there! I’m only going by what Firthy told me. He came up to San Francisco to see you, and when he got here you were hugging some other guy and grabbing his arse apparently, and he put two and two together….”

Dom interrupted, “….yeah! And clearly came up with 5! The guy I was saying hello to was Corey who’s my manager’s brother who was in town….we go waaay back!”

Leo wrinkled his otherwise perfect forehead, “Well, Michael didn’t see it that way….I mean, he’s a friend, but I also know he’s ridiculously shy when it comes to people he cares about….he has this outer shell that pervades this aura of ‘cool, distant, no strings’, but when he likes someone he doesn’t always see things objectively!”

Dom slumped slightly in his seat, “So he thought I’d got a hook up? And that’s why he went out with you?”  
Leo nodded, “I saw him at the airport, we had a quick chat and when I messaged him he’d just got back to the hotel after seeing you…and he was pissed off….and wanted to get drunk. So that’s what we did.”

“Did he really tell you about me?” Dom asked, a blush crossing his cheeks swiftly followed by his palm.

“He didn’t stop! Dom, look, he likes you. He told me you guys hooked up and agreed no strings fun….but he’s way past that with you….he’s crazy about you….I mean he’ll probably kill me for being here saying it, but I don’t care. He was so miserable Dom, and if you seriously only want no strings fun, do me a favour and call and tell him that, then he can move on. I sort of get the feeling though that you might feel pretty similar about him; and I can’t blame you!”

Dom had the grace to look like a guilty school kid who’d been caught red handed and puffed out his cheeks, “I do like him….I mean, I really like him. But you know how it is; when you agree fun that’s what you have to stick to….otherwise the whole of gay society will fall apart!”

Leo laughed along with Dom’s illustration, “Even the gays are allowed to change their minds!”

Dom sipped coffee and stroked his fingers against the side of his mug; he was suddenly aware that his knee was rubbing against Leo’s under the table, and that the guy smelled amazing…..and looked amazing….and yet the only person occupying his thoughts was Michael Firth!

“So what should I do?” Dom asked openly.  
Leo shook his head fractionally, “I’ve no idea! Seriously, I didn’t plan on this at all, I was down the street eating breakfast and stopped here for a smoke! This is a bit off the cuff. BUT, if it was me, I’d message Michael and tell him that he got it wrong about you and the Blond Guy and let him take it from there.”

Dom pressed his lips together; it seemed a reasonable and not too difficult thing for him to do, and then it left the ball in Michael’s court.  
Leo drained his tea, feeling that he’d performed the role of Gay Fairy Godmother pretty well. “OK, Dom….thanks for talking with me. Do something though, please….Michael’s a good mate, and a good man…..and you seem perfect for him, aside from the fact that the pair of you need to seriously improve your communication skills!”  
Dom smiled, showing his even, white teeth, “There are some areas where we communicate perfectly…..I guess we just need to apply that same frankness outside the bedroom!”  
“Right! On that note I’m leaving you to it!” Leo grinned widely; it was a smile that seemed completely different to his ‘model posed smoulders’, Dom wondered what it would be like to have that smile directed at him on a daily basis….some lucky guy no doubt would get that privilege one day!

As they both stood Leo held out his arm for a masculine, shoulder slapping hug.  
“Thanks, Leo…..I appreciate this and I will do something……next time you’re in town will you swing by when we’re open and give me some free publicity?” he asked shamelessly, feeling increasingly comfortable in the presence of the kind of attractiveness that actually made a couple of cars screech to a halt and one guy literally walk into a lamp post, (although Leo seemed oblivious!)

Leo grinned and nodded, “I’ll tell you what, you make things right with Michael; however that may be; and I’ll come by when I’m next in town and sample the Dom Chicken Window…and if you’re a very good boy I’ll make sure a couple of press guys know about it too! Deal?”  
“Definitely a deal!” Dom laughed, “Take care Leo.”  
Leo gave his traditional three fingers salute/wave as his long legs strode easily back in the direction of his hotel.

Dom collected their mugs and briefly considered whether he should keep Leo’s unwashed as he was certain Corey at least would be interested in just holding it close given that it had been caressed by Leo’s large palms for the past 20 minutes!  
In the end however he simply placed them on the counter and took out his phone.

He went back up to his apartment and considered whether to message or call Michael.  
In the end he scrolled through his phone and found one of the many selfie type images he’d taken showing him, Corey and Luke grinning at the lens. He sent one to Michael’s number and added the message, ‘Caught up with my manager’s brother on Friday; Corey is on my right, Luke on my left……I would have much preferred to be catching up with you. D 

He thought about it for a while before adding a single X at the end of the message and pressing ‘send’.

Content that he’d done what he said he would he considered what to occupy himself with as he ‘waited’.  
He checked his phone and rang Doris:  
“Hey Dom……are you still drooping around over sexy guy Leo Banks getting jiggy with the guy you wanna call your guy but who you’re too wussy to tell?”

“I love calling you Doris for the amazing support you give me in all the difficult and heart breaking times of my life!”

“Oh Jesus, Dom….if I had to give you sympathy for every guy who broke your heart I’d….well, I’d…..shit I don’t know, because honestly it doesn’t happen often. OK, so now I feel guilty….are ya’OK?”

“I’m OK….I think I just picked up a spoon!”

“You mean like in Friends? You made a move? Really? With Fuck me Firth?”

Dom nodded, “Yeah……I just messaged him.”

He heard Doris huff in disgust down the phone, “God Dom, I thought you were gonna tell me you drove to his beach house at midnight and declared your lust for him, or at least that you sent him a dick pic with the caption ‘Look what you’re missing!’”

“Look, for me this is progress. I got woken up by Leo Banks on my doorstep!”

“Oh my God! Is that a gay euphemism? ‘cos that guy is so sexy….he could stamp on my doormat any day!”

“No euphemism, he just turned up and told me that Michael had apparently come into the City with the intention of seeing me, but when he came by the window I’d was in the process of saying hi to Luke, so he assumed I was hooking up with him and went out with Leo instead.”

“Wow! So he was all excited about a little Dom action, and you were what, pawing at some other guy so he ran off with a sexy supermodel?”

“Michael and the sexy supermodel grew up together apparently! And yes, before you ask he really IS that hot…in fact even hotter in the flesh!”

“The flesh?! Oh Jesus, I think my ovaries may just have exploded!”

“Much as that is an appealing mental image I need your support and encouragement and vilification…..tell me I did the right thing by contacting Michael.”

“Dom, you did the right thing contacting him…..you should have done it earlier though and spared us the pining! But, seriously…..I think the sexy superbod might be more than a pretty face…..it’s up to Michael now, and if he really doesn’t want anything more he can tell you and you can move on and go back to steamroom fuck-a-thons with barely legal aged innocents!”

“Yeah, well…..the problem now is waiting….hanging around and being patient….I’m not good with patience!”

“Well, why not ring Patrick….see how things are with Kevin and Frankie….I sent him a ‘hope it’s all OK’ message, did you?”

“Yeah…..I might do that…..or I might go and work out….and I mean a real work out not a smutty version involving my hand!”

“Have fun….let me know how things go….as if I could stop you if I begged!”

He hung up and considered whether to message Patrick further but decided against it. If there was news Patrick would surely pass it on, no news implied either no news, or bad news….and that was NOT the kind of distraction he needed.  
He therefore opted for his own idea, he grabbed his gym bag, keys and a bottle of water and headed to burn off some calories and nervous energy.

Michael had tried unsuccessfully to get an earlier flight back to LA, so after getting himself up and showering he organised a late room check out , then took one of the hotel bikes and cycled the hour or so over to Sausalito where he found a decent place to eat brunch.  
After a cursory glance around the popular antique shops and galleries he found a glorious teak table and attached bench seat combo which would be ideal for his deck….the fact that it also reminded him of the dining area at Dom’s parklet was resolutely quashed as he gave his delivery details and credit card in order to pay the exorbitant shipping fees.

Having ridden back to the hotel at a more leisurely pace – partly due to the warmth on his face, partly due to eating too many waffles and partly due to his desire to pass the time before he could legitimately leave the City to get to the airport – he stripped off his clothes which were moist with fresh sweat and re-showered.  
With a clean towel slung low around his hips he started to gather his shit and threw it somewhat haphazardly into his cabin bag.  
Lounging on the sofa he glanced at his phone.  
His heart might actually have stopped briefly when he saw Dom’s name in his inbox messages.

Fuck!

On the third deep breath in he flicked the screen and his eyes stared initially at Dom’s warm smile, and then noticed the two, remarkably similar looking guys either side of him.  
He read the message and couldn’t prevent his narrow lips curling into a rueful and heart breakingly beautiful smile.

“Oh, Dom…..I fucked it all up,” he mumbled, flopping back against the upholstery and raking his hand through his still damp, cropped hair.  
He was contemplating how he should respond to Dom; should he message back? Use emojis? Call him?  
Instead, he rocked slowly on the sofa and groaned softly in his chest, peering intently at Dom’s image on his phone.  
He zoomed in on Dom’s beautiful smile and re-read his short, succinct, but almost perfect message.

He remained staring absently at the screen, wondering what his move should be, feeling his exposed skin start to goose pimple.  
He had a plane to catch.  
To take him home.  
Away from Dom.  
Away from the guy who hadn’t been hooking up with a Blond Man who, based on the picture, really was rather attractive, but….based on Dom’s message meant nothing to him.

“Fuck! Dom….shit you’re probably down the road! Why the fuck am I catching a plane?” his body language had altered dramatically at the realisation that he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Leaping up his towel hit the floor of the hotel room – but tinted windows and 10 floors up…..fuck it!

He reached for the internal hotel phone; which was a sort of tablet device and was in the process of repeating the call he’d made on Friday to get his emergency clothing when it began to buzz to signify an incoming call.  
He accepted it by flicking the green button and was met with an image of one of the concierges whom he recognised as the one who had arranged his bike earlier in the day.  
A picture of professionalism, he addressed Michael, “Mr Firth, I have a Mr Basaluzzo requesting to speak to you. He’s here with me at the desk.”

Michael’s eyes and mouth shot wide open before he gathered himself and nodded into the tablet, “Can you put him on? I’d like to talk to him.”

“Right now, Mr Firth?”

“YES! Now….please, I’d like to speak to him.”

The screen on the device in Michael’s hand became blurred for a moment before it was filled by Dom’s smirking and quite simply delicious smile.

“Wow! I take it I’m forgiven?” Dom stated, his pupils dilating visibly as he stared at Michael through the screen.  
Suddenly Michael didn’t want to talk to Dom this way anymore, “Can you come up? I….I think we need to talk.”  
“Sure. I’m gonna end the call before I pass this back to Terrence though!” and Dom waggled his eyebrows suggestively before he pressed the screen and froze for a fleeting second before the device turned blank and dark.

Michael set down his own device and scurried to grab his towel and tuck it back around his waist, casting a cursory look at his appearance in the mirror, before he realised that he actually didn’t care what he looked like….he just wanted to see Dom and tell him that he was an idiot, and that he was crazy for him.

He was still glaring at his reflection when he heard a soft rap on the door. He performed a ridiculous little leap as he turned towards the door then told himself to “Calm the fuck down Firth and stop acting like an even bigger twat!”

He opened the door to the alarmingly real and relaxed face of Dom….his Dom, or at least that’s what he needed to tell him.

“Oh!” Dom’s mouth turned down, “That’s a shame….I assumed by our video chat that that this wasn’t necessary!” he grazed one fingertip lightly against the white towelling fabric draped around Michael’s hips.  
Michael regarded him a little uncertainly.  
“Not sure I follow?” he stated, “But, come in.”

Dom wandered inside and nodded appreciatively at the large, open plan suite, “Niiice….is Patrick paying for this?”  
Michael chuckled slightly, “Er…no! I wasn’t in town connected to work….I came with the sole intention of seeing you….but I kind of cocked that up!” he winced, dropping his head and resting against the back of the sofa.  
Dom pressed his lips together and nodded, “Yeah…..Leo told me,” he met Michael’s look of confusion and continued, “He came to see me this morning and I now know that the fact that there are about a million pictures of you two looking like a pair of loved up Gods means nothing….and I was sort of hoping that the welcome I received on the tablet thing means you got my explanation about Luke….who I was not in any way hooking up with.”

Michael sheepishly, and to Dom’s eyes perfectly, nodded, but then flashed an expression of confusion back across his face, “What do you mean ‘based on the welcome I gave you on the device, phone thing’?”  
Dom smirked, “You were flashing me and Terrence the Full Firth!”

Michael’s face displayed his embarrassment charmingly, “No way?! I could only see your head on my screen….I assumed…..”  
“….well, Terrence and I could see both of yours!” Dom giggled, running one hand through his springy curls as Michael dropped to the sofa and covered his face with his hands; shaking his head and making soft, “No, no, no,” noises.

He eventually looked up at Dom’s waiting smile, “That was definitely unintentional……but if I hadn’t been naked would you still have come up?”

Dom came across and sat himself on the large, low padded ottoman footstool infront of the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees and reaching out fractionally with his fingers, waiting for some sign from Michael that this was OK.  
It was a fractional movement; his hand moving no more than an inch; but it captured the fingertips, and dragged Dom’s palm to rest against his bristled cheek.  
Dom could barely form his mouth into anything but a smile, but he managed to finally exhale, “I’d have come up even if you hadn’t asked me to…..naked, towel, full body armour! Michael I…..I don’t want no strings with you. Even though I know Leo is not a threat, I still hated seeing you with him….and I guess that means…

“…..I really like you…. too,” Michael finished for him, his eyes twinkling like two swirling, green pools.

“Can we maybe try making this work….us?” Dom asked gently, stroking his palm more confidently now along Michael’s neck, his fingers finding the warm softness there and angling him he realised, perfectly for him to be kissed.

Michael exhaled and leaned against Dom’s touch, smiling blissfully, his green eyes narrowed in an effort to prevent the moisture leaking from them.  
“I so want to try that, Dom,” he tilted his face and pressed his lips against Dom’s palm, savouring the familiar salty flavour of his skin as his presses became nibbles.

Dom surrendered to Michael’s ministrations and allowed his face to he pulled into Michael’s increasingly needy touches, but stopped short before their lips connected,  
“Just to clarify…..because I don’t want any more confusion between us….do you want to be my boyfriend….and nobody else’s boyfriend?” Dom asked, his gaze flicking between Michael’s glistening eyes and his lips.

“Yes…..more than anything. I want big, huge, thick strings tying us together. That OK?” Michael smirked, licking out his tongue in an attempt to engage Dom in the kiss he so desperately wanted.

Dom sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his chest, and finally tilted his chin so that his lips could join Michael’s in a kiss that was both tender and filled with desire.

Michael’s hand tugged firmly against the nape of Dom’s neck, pulling him forwards, tangling through his soft curls and urging his body across to press against his on the sofa.  
Dom eased himself to straddle across Michael’s hips, glorying in the smooth firmness of his naked chest and torso beneath his touch.  
Tongues and lips reacquainted themselves and breathing quickly became laboured as Michael gave in completely to Dom’s desperate tugs to release the towel.  
“God I’ve missed you,” Dom hissed as he pushed back on Michael’s chest, staring down at the Englishman’s erection pressing firmly against his own crotch.  
“Show me how much,” Michael drawled, casting a wolfishly sinister gaze towards the bed.

Dom didn’t need to be asked twice and was standing, dragging his rugby shirt over his head as Michael carefully stood and made his way over to join him.  
After kicking off his trainers Dom slowly unfastened his jeans and tugged them down slightly, releasing his own solid length and enjoying the slight sob from Michael’s throat.  
He was prevented from undressing further as Michael squirmed around to sit on the edge of the bed, sliding his palms around Dom’s backside and coaxing his cock closer to his needy mouth.

“Let me give my boyfriend a blow job,” he murmured, before clasping Dom around his shaft and sucking his hardness deep into his mouth, laving his tongue against the swollen head and whimpering as he felt Dom’s fingers splay into his cropped hair, urging him on.  
The knowledge that Michael wanted him as much and as exclusively as he to be wanted was somehow even more erotic than having a quick, heated one night of sex.  
This was his future!

This was bliss!

He drifted back to the present as Michael deftly parted his ass and began to stroke his finger against his seam; pressing and massaging expertly across his aching entrance.

Yeah….THIS was his future!

“What the fuck took us so long to get here?” he managed to snarl, grunting out a breath as he began to rock into the sensation of warm heaven around his cock and the firm, stroking intrusion as Michael pressed a digit inside him.

\----

Quite a long time later they lay nuzzling and stroking each other back to clear vision and steady heartbeats.  
It all felt so right and unscary.

“I hate to spoil the mood, but I need to either check out of this room or ring and see if I can have it another night,” Michael murmured, pressing soft kisses against Dom’s slightly sweaty temple and receiving a groaning laugh in response.  
“How about we go to my place?” Dom suggested, wrapping his arms around Michael’s body and enjoying how well their bodies fitted together….in sooooo many ways.

Michael nodded, “I suppose we need to talk about quite a lot of stuff…..I’m supposed to be flying back to LA tonight……don’t worry, don’t worry….I’m staying a bit longer….if that’s OK?” he giggled as Dom made it clear that he didn’t want Michael to leave in the nicest and most adorable possible ways.

“Yeah…I want you to stay…..can I say forever and not have you puking?” he grinned.

Michael gave him a beautiful smile in response, “I’m not going to puke at that…..it sounds perfect! HOWEVER…” he sighed, “….we need to make a few decisions about things….I mean, I live in LA, you……belong here!”

Dom suddenly looked serious, “I do….I love it here, but……I….I love you….so….”  
His sentence was cut off by a muffled shriek as Michael pressed his wrists against his face and straddled his naked body, smiling like a lunatic.

“You love me? You said it….you can’t recant!” he grinned.

Dom laughed back, but didn’t try to struggle out of Michael’s grip.  
“I don’t want to!......I’m completely, and totally in love with you Mr Michael Firth!” he almost shouted as Michael wriggled above him, covering as much of his body as possible in wet, hungry kisses.

Finally their mirth and laughter subsided and Michael regarded Dom tenderly,  
“I love you too Mr Dom Basaluzzo…..so why don’t we get out of this rented bed and go to your place and see what we can figure out for the rest of…..forever?” he wrinkled his nose and shrugged, loving how Dom’s hands stroked almost aimlessly across his thighs.

“You mean you’re coming home with me?” Dom asked, propping himself up onto his elbows as Michael left the bed and looked around at the random mess of clothes strewn about the room.  
“Uh hum,” he nodded, “But first I’m showering……you coming?”  
“Always!” Dom growled before following his boyfriend into the swanky shower for a lengthy and very thorough soaping!

_____________  
On Monday morning Michael rolled over slightly and inhaled a groan of pleasure when he hit firmly against the muscular, hairy body of Dom beside him.  
He then heard, and felt, the rumbling, deep voice of the man he was now able to call his boyfriend'

"Smile, Mikey!" 

Michael glanced up and giggled as he saw Dom's arm outstretched above their recumbent forms; their messy and tangled bodies beneath the covers visible on the selfie he was taking.

"What's this for? Do you need proof that we're actually together?" Michael asked, pressing himself up onto his elbows and stretching out his long legs; feeling a delicious and familiar tingle in his rear.

Dom fiddled with his phone, but responded to Michael's nuzzling and persistent kisses,  
"I'm letting people know that I'm not a complete loser in the most time effective manner, so that I can get back to giving my full attention to my boyfriend!.....Is that OK?" he smirked.

Michael couldn't stop himself making a delighted little grunt and nodding as wrapped himself bodily around Dom's torso, like a toddler hugging a teddy bear.

They’d managed to get themselves out of the hotel room and across to Dom’s apartment, and after Dom had hastily made arrangements with his staff they had spent the rest of Sunday evening rediscovering Dom’s bed and each other’s bodies all over again.

“So….did we actually make any plans or decisions about the future last night?” Michael stretched out and sighed as he relinquished his limpet like grasp of Dom so that he could pee.  
From his compact but practical shower room Dom called back, “The only thing I decided was that I might have to consider sound proofing this place if you’re planning on becoming a more permanent resident!”

Michael coughed and rolled his eyes at the memory of some of Dom’s amazing skills, “Well, that depends on what we actually decide to do! I mean, my place in Malibu is amazing….and big….and I think we have established that I can be as noisy as I like there and only disturb the sealife!”

Dom came back into the room and dragged on boxers before crossing to the kitchen and switching on the coffee maker.  
“BUuuuuut, my businesses are here…..and I kind of feel like SF is home….at least for me,” he shrugged and pursed his lips beneath his moustache at Michael.

He nodded back, “I understand that…..how about we keep my place in Malibu for recreational purposes and fun weekends and vacations and get somewhere in the City……together…..I mean, we could rent somewhere if you think it’s too soon.”

Dom glanced around his space. 

He did like his apartment and it’s proximity to the chicken window, but it wasn’t going to be very private, and it realistically wasn’t big enough for them both full time.

“I’d like it if we could keep your place. Is it paid for?” Dom busied himself with mugs and brought a coffee across to Michael in the bed, sitting and crossing his leg under him as he perched on the edge.  
Michael accepted the hot drink, slurped and used a mouthful to almost rinse around his mouth, “Yeah….it’s paid for….I know we haven’t talked about money, but for your information I do OK……I’m getting close to $2,000,000 for this MDG job with Patrick….so….you know….we could get somewhere.”  
Dom’s eyebrows had arched up into his hairline, “2 million dollars? Jesus……my boyfriend’s a rich bastard as well as being a sexy bastard!”  
“A rich, sexy, British bastard!” Michael winked as they drank coffee together.

Dom’s phone buzzed with an incoming message and he swiped it up, pausing and grinning widely before handing it across to Michael.  
“Look’s like we got competition in the perfect couple stakes!” 

Michael looked down at the screen and gave a deep sigh before zooming in on the image and sniggering, “Please tell me our snuggle pic didn’t show the cabinet with ripped condom wrappers on it?”  
Dom almost choked on his drink before reaching out and laughing outloud as he saw the section Michael had enlarged. 

“I think the sight of Patrick and Kevin together with the ocean in the background is supposed to distract us!” Dom smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one fluff filled final chapter left......fair warning that the sickly sweetness of it may induce a diabetic coma!


	39. Looking at a lifetime of tasty treats for Frankie!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little leap in time and we have happy endings for everyone....including Leo!  
> Fair warning that this is ridiculously and shamelessly sickly sweet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please have some way of playing the Stevie Wonder track, Signed, Sealed, Delivered ready to go towards the very end of the chapter...it will set the scene and finish things off perfectly.

Five weeks later, Tanya’s Saturday evening ‘pick-me up’ evening of margaritas and a joint on the beach had more of a party atmosphere to it.

Dom and Michael had strolled from the verandah where they’d been trying to decide on the exact location for his teak wooden booth seat and table which had just been delivered from the antique shop in Sausalito.   
Their arms were casually slung around each other, their lips frequently making contact with some part of the other’s skin.

They'd had driven down for the weekend; having found an ideal apartment a few streets away from Dom’s chicken window they’d snapped it up, but were having it stripped and refitted to their own tastes room by room…..this weekend was the bathroom!

Doris had heard of their trip down the coast, and with Malik away on a 4 day conference had invited herself.   
She and Tanya were already getting on as though they had known each other for years!   
Down on the beach, they’d set up the fire, using tequila as a practical method of ignition, and were now working their way through the rest of the bottle in the most eye watering strength margaritas.

Kevin and Patrick joined everyone…..and Frankie hobbled out too.   
His stitches and shaved patchwork was fading and he was starting to look like his old self again. He also seemed to be completely besotted with Patrick…..even more than Kevin!  
Which was definitely saying something considering the fact that they had been inseparable!

Patrick had started working at the MDG SF offices…..and had already needed the jelly bean machine refilling!  
Kevin had spent equal time in San Francisco and LA .   
He’d wanted to spend every second with Patrick; but he’d also wanted to let Patrick get on with establishing himself in his new role….plus he had needed to look after Frankie’s recovery.

They were still working through the fine print of their new relationship….but unlike their previous attempt each step this time was accompanied by clear minded and open discussion.   
They had established that they didn’t want any kind of open relationship; Kevin had explained that he’d never wanted that with Patrick – which was why he left Jon in the first place to be with him, and only him – however Patrick’s reaction to the ‘Stepford Gays’ at the apartment party had made him reconsider, and he’d decided to broach it as a possibility if it meant keeping Patrick….but Patrick had of course perceived this a different way and the rest was history!

However, following this discussion Patrick had suggested that some of the stuff from ‘before’ should stay as that…..history…..the past!

They had agreed on what they both wanted, and it had been such a simple thing…..both of them stating that they wanted an exclusive relationship with each other with no plan for the future other than to always be honest.

Sex was still amazing, but it was now backed up with a closeness and an openness that was both thrilling and deeply tender.

“OK you guyz…..we are officially at the guilty pleasure music section of the evening…and Kevin; I am demanding a pitcher of your Bourbon Sour cocktail….so go get squeezing lemons while I distract your boyfriend with a little Britney!” Tanya squealed as the opening bars to ‘Work Bitch’ pumped from the portable speaker and Patrick instantly leapt across to let the music take over.

Shaking his head Kevin went inside, Frankie was beside himself but eventually resettled on the blanket he’d claimed as his own, but his eyes remained trained on Head Rub Man……he seemed to be around a lot, and although he often made some strange noises, mainly at night, and mainly in the other guy's bedroom, he appeared to make the Previously Sobbing Man really happy.

Doris passed the joint she'd rolled across to Dom, and he and Michael shared a lungful from it in the most sickeningly romantic way before realising their lips had been separated for far too long and sliding into a completely unashamed and unreserved necking session with Dom pressing Michael against the wooden stairs’ bannister rail.

Doris made a retching sound as she took back the joint; but she was completely thrilled that Dom had found someone who was special, and who loved him…..like she did and always would.

Neither man cared about showing their complete adoration and devotion to the other; they’d become so completely loved up and interwoven with each other that it just felt normal to show it.

Britney faded into DNCE and Doris joined in Tanya and Patrick’s sand poundingly exuberant dancing. Cake by the Ocean melted into Walking on Sunshine and Dom was forced to break off his thorough and barely legal examination of Michael in order to dance himself crazy with Doris, failing to drag Michael into the whooping mele as Kevin rejoined them all bearing a frothy jug of his famous bourbon sour concoction.

Drinks were poured all round; Michael checked his phone as he felt it buzz and saw a familiar name; Leo Banks had sent him a message with a picture attachment.  
Opening it as he sipped down the rather perfectly intoxicating drink his lips quirked into a smug smile.

The message stated, “Apparently there really is one out there for all of us! This is mine….he’s called Davy. Leo X”   
The picture showed Leo’s unmistakable swarthy features and long, tousled hair nestling over the shoulder of a younger, slender man, wearing a beautifully fitted purple suit. He had a simply gorgeous, open smile and eyes that were almost as blue as Dom’s, combine this with his pose and slightly freckled grin that gave the impression of boyish innocence that Michael knew was very much on Leo’s ‘must have’ list in a guy he could definitely see why Leo appeared as happy as he was.

Michael glanced over at Dom, his eyes suddenly feeling moist with happiness as he caught his boyfriend flick a concerned ‘You OK?’ expression back at him. He nodded and grinned widely; the opening bars of one of his favourite songs came through the speakers and he wandered sexily across to gather Dom into his arms, whispering quickly that Leo had found a guy almost as perfect as he had.

As Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered started in earnest the beach scene depicted a tall, dark, slender Englishman moving his hips languidly between the thighs of a tousle haired, blue eyed silver-fox. On the opposite side of the glowing fire an equally tangled duo moved rhythmically together, their foreheads rubbing to create a closeness and shared intimacy as they clung to the hopeful feelings they’d always shared when dancing together.   
Closer to the ocean two wavy haired women; one dark, one fair; were lying on their backs making sand angels and blowing kisses to the sky as Doris became acquainted with Tanya’s boys, and Tanya became acquainted with the trio of tiny lives that had decided for whatever reason never to make it past a few months in her belly. Neither woman would ever feel unloved or unfulfilled in life.

And on his blanket, on the deck, overseeing it all Frankie, drooled happily, snoring as his eyes drifted closed and feeling immensely satisfied that his plan had succeeded…..he was sorted for titbits and treats for a loooong time to come!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who stuck with this!  
> I had to get to an ending that satisfied my need to see Kevin and Patrick back together and at peace with how they hadn't given things a chance on the TV version....and the fact that in the final movie it was soooooo clear that Kevin still loved him so much and was still so hurt about how he'd given up everything for Patrick.  
> What I also knew was that I wanted Dom to find happiness....and much as he loves his 'fuck 'em and leave 'em' lifestyle, I loved the idea of him meeting his match!  
> Hope you enjoyed it or found it interesting even if you are still TeamRitchie!


End file.
